


The Fall of Winter

by Reign_of_Rayne



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Mental Conflict, post winter soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-20 16:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 24,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18528376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reign_of_Rayne/pseuds/Reign_of_Rayne
Summary: Five months after Captain America, Falcon, and Black Widow took down the HYDRA plot to take over SHIELD's helicarriers, Captain America is desperately looking for his long-lost friend, Bucky Barnes. It has been a long search, but both sides are not really sure if a reunion will lead to happiness or disaster.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from FF.net. A warning in advance: this is an old work.

Metal was screeching, distant explosions rocking every square inch of the SHIELD helicarrier. The vibrations alone were enough to throw a man off his feet, but Captain America was not a normal man. With inhuman strength, the legendary soldier gripped the steel trap his friend was pinned under and lifted, feeling his muscles scream in protest.

_This serum better be worth everything I paid for it_ , Steve Rogers thought as he saw the other man pull himself out from under the chunk of helicarrier just as Steve was forced to let it drop. Another explosion rocked the helicarrier and Steve was thrown from his feet, landing hard on his shoulder. Quickly, he climbed to his feet, feeling the injury in his stomach reaching its tendrils of pain throughout his body. There was no way he could keep this up. He needed his friend back.

He needed Bucky.

The man in question staggered to his feet, staring at the man across from him. Steve Rogers couldn't help himself as he stared at the metal arm his partner wielded, the red star branded on its shoulder.

"You know me," Steve managed, holding his hands up. The man Steve thought of as Bucky gave no indication of caring about Steve's statement and lunged, driving Steve into the crumbling floor of the ship.

"No I don't!" He yelled, disengaging from the man in the red, white, and blue uniform.

"Yes you do," Steve insisted, seeing the wild look in the other man's light blue eyes. They were both breathing heavily, somehow managing to stay on their feet. "I'm not going to fight you." In a move that the other man never expected, Steve pushed his shield through a hole in the floor, sending the iconic emblem of freedom sailing through the air, quickly lost to sight.

In an instant, Steve saw that Bucky - no, the Winter Soldier - didn't care about his shield. Bracing himself, Steve waited for the blow and allowed the Winter soldier to tackle him. The impact shocked him, however, and Steve couldn't even lift up his arms as the Winter Soldier began shouting something. His words were lost over the roar of the dying helicarrier and the punches he was raining down on Steve.

With one last-ditch effort, Captain America managed to gasp out one last tribute to the man who was once his comrade.

"I'm here, Bucky. I'm with you to the end of the line."

With a loud screech, the floor fully gave way and an injured and now-unconscious Captain America plummeted towards the water below, the scene eerily reminiscent of his previous descent in the HYDRA ship. The Winter Soldier was left hanging from a metal pipe, staring down at the man who was falling far below. Something was stirring in the Winter Soldier's memories. Just enough to make him realize that he couldn't let that other man die.

Before the doomed helicarrier crashed, the Winter Soldier let go of the pipe and went into a free fall, following the man below. He couldn't die. Not now, not ever.

The Winter Soldier never failed a mission.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Five months later_ **

"See anything?" Steve yelled, jumping over a fallen tree. The whole rainforest was a maze of fallen trees and underbrush, with the loud nosies of animals going about their daily lives in the jungle. At least the sun was out, what little light that could make it through the rainforest canopy spilling over the ground. The rest of the area was bathed in a shadowy kind of darkness.

_"Nothing at all!"_ A voice replied through Captain America's comm unit. _"Are you sure he's here? This is the third lead in as many weeks, Cap!"_

"I know, Falcon," Steve replied, looking around. "But I can't think of anything else. That villager did say he saw a man with a metal arm pass through here a week ago." The voice of his partner crackled through Steve's ear again.

_"I get that you want to find this guy, Steve, but he ain't here. I'm sorry."_

"Understood, Falcon." Steve couldn't keep the disappointment out of his voice. The longer he went without finding Bucky, the less of a chance he had of finding him. "Let's go back to base. I'm in the mood for some pasta."

Dejectedly, Captain America turned away from the rest of the rainforest and began trudging back to the wooden cabin five miles away, where he and Falcon had said up their base camp.

_"Meet you there, slowpoke."_

Steve Rogers smiled wryly as a dark shadow flew over his head, streaking in the direction of the cabin. Falcon would beat him there, no doubt, so Steve took his time heading back, enjoying the chance to stretch his muscles. The soreness from the injuries he had sustained in the SHIELD helicarrier had long since faded. Closing his eyes, Steve tried to remember that day, but the pain fogged his memory. All he could recall was flashes of agony, falling, and then water. However, Falcon told him that Steve had been found on shore, so how had he gotten there?

"It was you, Bucky," Steve muttered under his breath. "I know it." Of course, he had no proof, no evidence, and only circumstantial circumstances to think so, but that was all that Steve needed. He knew Bucky; it didn't matter if the man had been to hell and back, he was still Bucky.

It took Steve just over forty minutes to make it to the cabin, and that was after having a five-minute staring competition with a large animal that got too curious. Eventually, the animal had moved on, leaving Steve free to continue his rainforest stroll relatively undisturbed.

Falcon was waiting inside the large wooden cabin when Steve pushed the creaking wooden door open, a large smile on the man's face.

"I knew I could beat you!" Falcon declared, standing in front of the Captain. With a small smirk, Steve pushed past his friend and into the kitchen. As he passed by Falcon, Steve muttered a phrase that made Falcon's proud expression fade.

"On your left."

"That is so not cool, man!" Falcon complained, falling back into a chair. Next to him, the jetpack-like apparatus that held his flying equipment - hence his name, Falcon - sat on the floor, the metal wings folded. The machine's power source was developed by a company that Steve wasn't familiar with, but Steve knew enough to guess that Falcon wouldn't be falling out of the sky because of a lack of juice any time soon.

Thirty minutes later, both men were seated and eating the hearty dinner Steve had prepared.

"I don't care that you were a popsicle for seventy years," Falcon proclaimed, sitting back and putting a hand on his stomach, "you beat army rations every time!"

"You pick up some handy skills when you've got nothing better to do with your life," Steve replied softly, abruptly sobering the atmosphere.

"Well, if you want to say it like that," Falcon muttered, getting that Steve was withdrawing into himself again. He'd been doing this for a while now, spacing out and getting lost to the world. With a sigh, Falcon grabbed his friend's plate and quickly washed the dishes. If he was honest with himself, Falcon was beginning to get worried about Captain America. Ever since the Winter Soldier had disappeared, Steve Rogers had been wholly preoccupied with finding him. It was a bit of an obsession, really.

Falcon could somewhat sympathize with what the legendary soldier was going through, but he knew that what he had gone through in his two tours was nothing compared to what Captain America had been forced to endure. Hell, the guy had been dead for seventy years and was now expected to simply cope with waking up in a whole new century.

Falcon was hard-pressed to think of a soldier he'd met who had suffered through anything as bad as the Captain and came up with nothing. With one last glance at his flying gear, the man retired to one of the two small cots put up against one wall. With one last glance at his comrade, Falcon turned over and lost himself to sleep.

Outside, hidden by the night and its accompanying shadows, a troubled man watched the lights go out in the wooden cabin. His light blue eyes were pained and his body language spoke of trials no man should ever have to endure.

But he had endured, and he would continue to endure.

The man he had been following. What was his name? The man with the light blue eyes put his hands to his head and tried to force himself to remember, but to no avail. He wanted to sneak into the cabin, but he wasn't sure what he would do then. Echoes of orders long since given still played around in his head, only adding to the confusion the man felt.

"You knew who I was," the man eventually said, staring at the cabin. "You called me Bucky." His eyes narrowed as he spoke the name. It was familiar to him, that much was obvious, but the memories simply wouldn't connect. "I want to know more."

However, the man knew that if he got too close to that man from the helicarrier, the one who called him Bucky, he would only hurt him. Even now, his metal arm ached, the point where it connected to his body feeling ice cold. He'd been given a second chance, but it wasn't really the chance he'd wanted.

In a flash of silver, the man vanished into the darkness, leaving nothing but a small paper note in his wake.

Thirty meters away, the last of the light from the small wood cabin faded.


	3. Chapter 3

"Captain!" Sam Wilson yelled, shouldering his mechanical wings. "I'm going to do a quick sweep!"

"Go ahead," was Steve's dejected response. When Wilson was honest with himself, he knew he just wanted to have some alone time for a while. He'd spent the last five months of his life helping out the most famous soldier in history, which in itself was his greatest achievement in his mind, but lately with the Captain feeling down Sam just wanted to breathe.

Opening the door, Sam stepped outside, stretching in the early morning light.

"Nothing like the rainforest to make you wish you had a force field," he sighed, feeling the familiar cloud of bugs begin to descent on him. Luckily, Sam had a defense against the evil insects. "Later, bugs," Sam scoffed, activating his wings. They shot out of the metal pack on his back and the small but powerful propulsion jets launched Sam into the air. A smile covered Sam's face as he flew into the air, leaving the hated bugs far behind.

As usual, the exhilaration of flying quickly took hold of the para-rescue man as he let out a whoop of excitement, executing a series of loops and spins that would leave any other inexperienced flyers in the dust. There was no doubt: Falcon was the greatest flyer in the history of the military. However, Falcon quickly dismissed that thought, thinking of his wingman. He wasn't _that_ great. He was still human, not some mystical being that could do anything.

_"Come in, Falcon_ _,"_ a voice said, coming in through Falcon's comm link in his ear, a device that Falcon never went without. His smile grew at the voice.

"Black Widow," He grunted, doing a barrel roll and skimming the canopy. "Long time no . . . hear."

_"I suppose. This isn't a friendly call, you know."_

"I know. We still haven't found him." A sigh was audible over the frequency.

_"The director is getting anxious. The longer that man is out there-"_

"What?" Falcon interrupted, flipping so that he was flying upside-down, his red goggles protecting his eyes from the brightness of the sun. "The more dangerous he gets?"

_"You know that's not what I meant. He's unstable."_

"I've handled plenty of unstable people, ma'am. I don't think- whoa!" A knife whistled by, just a hair away from Falcon's face.

_"Falcon? What was that?"_

"A knife," the soldier growled. He tried to identify the source and nearly fell out of the sky when he saw a familiar man crouching in the tops of the trees. "I'm going to have to get back to you, Widow."

_"Falcon! Don't you dare do what I-!"_

Dully, Sam shut off his comm link. He got the feeling this guy wouldn't want anyone else knowing about their conversation.

"It's you," he eventually said, hovering a few meters away from the man who had caused countless innocents unbearable pain. The Winter Soldier only stared back, not saying anything. His metal arm sparkled in the sunlight, as the man was making no attempt to hide. Sam found a stable enough branch and landed, retracting his wings. After a few minutes of silence, Sam eventually got impatient. "Well? You got anything to say?"

The memory of the man in front of him ripping off Sam's wings and kicking him off the side of the helicarrier flashed through Falcon's mind, but he pushed it aside. Cap had been adamant about how Bucky never really would've done that, and that the whole thing was HYDRA's fault.

Still, the man in front of Sam said nothing. Sam sighed, running a hand over his head, rubbing his short black hair. It was even shorter than military standard, something Sam liked just fine. Instinctively, Falcon slapped at a mosquito that had landed on his skin, leaving a bloody smear on his black skin. Annoyed, Sam rubbed it off, wishing he'd worn a thin layer to protect himself from the pests.

"Why does Steve never have this problem?" He asked himself. It was like the serum he'd been injected with repelled bugs, something that Falcon was insanely jealous of. The mosquitoes were eating him alive while Steve was perfectly fine!

"That's his name."

"What?" Sam looked up, seeing the Winter Soldier staring at him. Falcon couldn't help but wonder why the guy across from him didn't cut his dark brown hair. It was only a few centimeters from his shoulders, for crying out loud. Did the guy have any respect for his own appearance? A real man didn't forget himself like the Winter Soldier had!

"That's his name," the Winter Soldier repeated, eyes vacant and fists clenched. "Steve."

"Uh, yeah," Falcon said uncertainly. "Steve Rogers." What was this guy getting at? The Widow's words echoed in Falcon's mind: _He's unstable_.

The Winter Soldier seemed to abruptly snap back to himself. "Steve Rogers. Captain America."

" . . . Right," Sam acknowledged slowly, getting his guard up.

"I . . . " The guy seemed to be about to say something, but he suddenly fell to his knees, clutching his head. Frankly, Sam was amazed that he didn't fall to the jungle floor.

"Hey! Dude, you okay?" The Winter Soldier gave no response, only continuing to hold his head and repeat something under his breath too quietly for Falcon to make out. With one wing-assisted jump, Sam was crouched over the Winter Soldier, hardly believing what he was doing. Helping the Winter Soldier was something he wouldn't have dreamed was possible five months ago, but here he was.

Abruptly, the Winter Soldier stopped trembling. All Sam heard was the man's heavy breathing. A split second later, before Sam could even react, the old friend of Captain America lashed out, catching Falcon with a punch from his metal arm that sent the soldier flying through the air and crashing through the canopy, heading straight for the forest floor. At the last second, Falcon's wings deployed and with expert flying skill Sam managed to maneuver himself back up above the trees, clutching his stomach.

"I'm gonna throw up," he coughed, "right after I kick this guy into next week!"

However, as Sam looked around, he realized that the Winter soldier was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had never been there. The only proof Sam had was the pain emanating from his stomach.

"Knowing my luck," the tired man sighed, "I'm going to have a fist-shaped bruise tomorrow." Only then did he remember that he'd hung up on Black Widow. "Oh . . . damn. She's going to kill me."

With that thought in mind, Falcon quickly flew back towards the cabin. Steve would want to know what had happened. Maybe, just maybe, the news would get the Captain out of whatever funk he had pulled himself into.


	4. Chapter 4

"You did _what_?"

Unable to help himself, Sam smirked.

"You must be feeling your age, Cap," he replied to the Captain's shocked outburst. "You might want to get your hearing checked."

"Just hold on a minute, Sam," Captain America replied, closing his eyes for a moment and completely ignoring how Sam had just pointed out his age. "You're telling me that you saw Bucky? Here?"

"With my own two eyes, too," Falcon replied easily, crossing his arms. He had to wonder why the captain wasn't more excited. Surely he would be happy to hear that his friend was close? Of course, the Winter Soldier _had_ punched Falcon without warning, so maybe it wasn't as happy a moment as Sam had first considered it. Sam continued talking, his voice going quiet as he realized that he was treading on sensitive ground. "I know it's hard, Cap, but he still isn't the guy you fought with. I don't know what they did to him-" Sam saw Steve stiffen and backed off slightly- "but please, dude, you gotta think about this. Maybe he doesn't want to be found by you."

"By me?" Steve repeated, giving Sam a hard look. "What do you mean by that?"

"Uh . . . " Sam cleared his throat. With all of his experience with soldiers, Sam still wasn't sure how to talk to Captain America. The guy was just too complicated, too hard to figure out when he wasn't fighting for something. "Well, you might be . . . how do I phrase this . . . _painful_ for him."

"Painful." Steve's tone was nothing short of flat.

"You know how it is," Sam responded, keeping his voice hard. The captain had his five months of sulking; now the guy needed to suck it up. "Everyone's got a trigger, and you might be Bucky's. I doubt seeing you is doing good things in his head."

"But he did want to know my name," Steve argued back, a familiar light of stubbornness appearing in his eyes. Sam hid a smile at the sight, happy to see the captain getting his act together.

"That's true, I'll admit that much," Sam sighed, "but he still punched me."

"Maybe it was because of your personality," Steve muttered, saying it loud enough that it was obvious Sam was meant to hear it. Sam simply rolled his eyes, but he was considerably more happy than he had been that morning, even if his abdomen ached like nothing else.

"The things I'm willing to do for you, Cap," Sam groaned. "Seriously. I think this is worse than that lead in Egypt you followed the first time."

"You can't blame me for that one," Steve shot back. "It was a good lead!"

* * *

Nearby, the Winter Soldier listened in on what Sam and Steve were saying. Each word seemed to bounce around in his head until he could finally force them out, but he was determined to learn more about the men in the building. Vaguely, the Winter Soldier recalled the SHIELD helicarriers, how he had battled the one called Steve Rogers and the other one, Sam, and lost. After that . . . The Winter Soldier frowned, struggling to remember.

Had he saved Steve Rogers? He couldn't remember . . .

A flash of pain in his skull forced the Winter Soldier to his knees, clutching at his head. Why did his head hurt so much?

_"Just stay still. This will only hurt a lot."_

"Agh!" The Winter Soldier squeezed his hands so tightly a small amount of blood seeped out from between his fingers. "Get out of my head!" The memory didn't respond, it only faded back to wherever it had come from.

It took him a while to calm down, but eventually the Winter Soldier was back to normal. For a moment, he waited to see if the men in the building near him had heard anything, but there was no sign to indicate that they had. He let out a breath. It had been hard enough to avoid Steve Rogers before, but now that he was curious, it was only getting more difficult.

There was something about Steve Rogers that stirred the Winter Soldier's mind and brought back memories. He couldn't explain how or why, but he knew that this Steve Rogers was a link to his forgotten past, back before he was a weapon for Hydra.

"For a highly skilled assassin, you sure don't keep your guard up."

The Winter Soldier had no time to react as a small dart pierced the skin around his neck. Instantly, he ripped it out, but not before the sedative contained within the needle of the dart was injected into his body. Almost immediately, his world began to blur, but not before he saw a black-clothed, red-haired woman step out of the shadows, the gauntlets on her wrists glowing a faint blue that was already fading.

"You . . . shot me," the Winter Soldier said. How had he been so careless?

His anger soon faded as he went unconscious.

* * *

"Steve!" Natasha, better known as Black Widow, pounded on the door of the wooden cabin. "If you don't open this door, I swear-!" She was abruptly cut off as the door swung open, but instead of Steve it was his friend, Sam Wilson.

"Natasha?" He said, one of his eyebrows shooting up. "What brings a girl like you all the way out here?"

"Save it, Falcon," Natasha snapped. "I've got a bit of baggage that I really need to unload."

Sam's gaze wandered beyond Natasha and his eyes widened considerably when he saw what she was hauling. A familiar silver arm shone in the light of the sun.

"You . . . caught him," Falcon said numbly, so surprised he couldn't even act shocked. "And when did you get here?"

"When you suddenly turned off your comm unit, director Fury sent me in. You know, damage control." She gave him her signature smirk and then pushed past Falcon, dragging the unconscious form of the Winter Soldier behind her. "If you'll excuse me," she called back sarcastically.

"You better not scratch the floor!" Sam yelled back, slamming the door and following Natasha into the small sitting area. Steve was there, his expression nothing short of priceless when he saw the Black Widow dragging the Winter Soldier through his living room.

"I don't suppose you have something I can restrain him with," Natasha said, the sentence both a statement and a question. Her piercing eyes missed nothing as she examined the house, but her calculating gaze gave nothing of her thoughts away. Without a word, Steve pointed to a small closet. Nodding her acknowledgement, Natasha walked over to the closet, opened it, and pulled out a heavy metal chair. It took her more than a little effort to drag the chair over to the Winter Soldier, and even longer to maneuver the unconscious man into a sitting position. "I'm not going to ask you where you got this or why you have it," Natasha grunted, fastening the metal restraints, "because I have a feeling the answer is not one I want to hear."

"Just go with that," Falcon muttered. "Don't listen to me. Just drag the heavy metal chair over the _nice wood flooring_!"

"Will you shut up about the flooring!" Widow yelled, getting up in Falcon's face. The stubborn man held her gaze, a determined glint in his eyes that was mirrored by Natasha's.

"Guys," Steve sighed, rubbing his face. "I think you're forgetting about everyone else in the room."

The two quickly separated, taking seats on chairs opposite of one another. Sam had an annoyed expression on his face, while Natasha wore a mask of cool indifference. However, Steve saw right through it. She was just as annoyed as Falcon, and twice as disturbed by the unconscious man between them.

"Steve," Sam asked, "you okay? I mean, the lady did just drag the Winter Soldier into our house."

"I've been through worse, Sam," Steve replied, leveling the Winter Soldier with a gaze that was impossible to interpret. "I just . . . can't believe it. He's right in front of me, but I can't talk to him."

"Let's not forget that he probably doesn't remember you, Cap," Natasha put in dryly, though her tone was not hurtful. "No offense, but Hydra did a pretty good number on your friend. I'm not sure if he'll remember anything."

"He will," Steve insisted, staring at his old friend. "I know it."

The unconscious man groaned, beginning to come to.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Everyone in the room watched intently as the Winter Soldier's eyes opened. The Winter Soldier, for his part, was confused, still under some effects of the sedative that the red-haired woman had used. After a few moments, his training kicked in and his eyes flew all the way open and he pulled on his restraints, testing their limits.

"Whoa, big guy! Chill out. We're not here to torture you. Probably - ow!"

The Winter Soldier looked up to see the black man rubbing his shoulder, shooting the man on his left a dirty look. His eyes narrowed. He'd talked to the black man before; his name was Sam. That meant the other man was . . . Steve. The man who claimed to know the Winter Soldier since before he _was_ the Winter Soldier.

"Bucky," Steve said quietly. The name made a headache spring up in the Winter Soldier's head and he clenched his teeth.

"That's not my name," he growled.

"It was." The Winter Soldier's icy eyes snapped over to the red-haired woman, who appeared to be picking her nails. She returned his gaze calmly, unfazed by his expression. Then she frowned. "Are you wearing mascara?"

He didn't like that woman.

"No," he eventually said, dismissing the woman and turning back to Steve, as he seemed to be the most conflicted of the group. He took a deep breath, formulating the question in his mind. "How did you know me?"

"I think the better question is 'when'," the woman muttered.

"That's it, Natasha," the man named Sam grunted. "We're leaving."

"But-!"

"No complaining," Sam snapped, dragging the woman out the door. The Winter Soldier watched the interaction, confused. He remembered fighting that woman and that man. She was obviously allowing the other man to drag her out, though the Winter Soldier couldn't see why.

"Thank you, Sam," Steve muttered, running a hand through his hair and fixing the Winter Soldier with an intense look from his blue eyes. The Winter Soldier returned the gaze blankly.

"Why am I restrained?" He asked, trying to move again and failing.

"Natasha thought it would be a good idea," Steve replied. It seemed as if the whole situation pained him. Suddenly, the Winter Soldier cried out and ducked his head, seemingly in pain. "Bucky!" He rushed to his friend's side - or the person who had been his friend before - but wasn't sure what to do. The chair the Winter Soldier was in buckled and his hands were clenched into fists.

Just as suddenly as it had happened, the Winter Soldier relaxed, tipping his head back and taking deep breaths. Steve watched, an expression of concerned worry on his face. Here was his friend, but there was nothing Steve could do to help him or get his memory back. Then again, Steve thought, watching Bucky - no, the Winter Soldier - recover, maybe getting his memory back wasn't a good thing. No doubt the Hydra scientists had put his friend through countless tortures that were better left forgotten.

The Winter Soldier slowly calmed down, his breathing and heart rate returning to normal. He needed to get a grip o his memories, but at times he was powerless to stop the flashes of past events.

_"Don't struggle. It will only make this more painful."_

He stiffened, but forced the memory back. He was his own man now, not Hydra's.

Apparently, he thought bitterly, he was being restrained for his own safety. Looking up, the Winter Soldier saw Steve still staring at him, and there was enough pain in his eyes to make the Winter Soldier wonder just what had gone on between them in the past.

"Do you know how old you are?" Steve eventually asked, sitting back down heavily in his chair. The Winter Soldier frowned, for a moment not wanting to answer the question, but then he realized that Steve was supposed to be helpful to him, so he searched his memory.

And came up blank.

"I- I don't know," he slowly said, confusion written all over his face. "I can't remember."

He remembered ice. And cold. And Darkness. But nothing else.

"You're over eighty years old," Steve said, "and so am I."

Immediately, the Winter Soldier shook his head.

"That's impossible."

He didn't sound so sure of himself.

"No, it's not," Steve responded, interlocking his fingers while his brow furrowed in thought. He wasn't sure how to talk to the man in front of him; his mind screamed "Bucky" while his eyes screamed "Winter Soldier". The two were the same man, but apparently Bucky was long gone. "You and I . . . we were partners in the United States military."

The Winter Soldier's eyes snapped wide open, shock on his face. More memories flashed through his mind, too quickly for him to make sense of them but one stayed just long enough for the Winter Soldier to recognize Steve holding out his hand, grinning, with gunfire in the background. A moment later, the Winter Soldier came back to the present, sweat dripping down his face.

"I . . ." he shook his head again, trying to dislodge the headache that was pounding in his brain. "I think I remember you."

Steve's expression was so full of hope that it made the Winter Soldier sick to his stomach, but he couldn't really do anything about it, being strapped to a chair and all.

"That's a start," Steve sighed. "Do you remember anything else? Your name?"

The Winter Soldier knew that the people referred to him as either "the Winter Soldier" or "Bucky". The latter name made his head hurt, but he couldn't help but think that there was a reason for that. Was Bucky his name before?

Suddenly, a memory came through his head. This time, it wasn't a barrage of images, but rather a single name: James Buchanan Barnes. His eyes widened and his hands tightened into fists. So that was his name.

"James . . . Buchanan . . . Barnes," the Winter Soldier muttered, speaking it slowly as if the words were foreign. Steve's expression only grew more surprised.

"You know your name!" He said, excited. The Winter Soldier shook his head.

"That's all I remember."

Steve frowned, puzzled. He couldn't figure out his friend. At some points he was easy to understand and at others it was nearly impossible to figure out what he was thinking.

Suddenly, the door burst open, with Black Widow supporting a wounded Falcon.

"We've got trouble, Captain!" She yelled, slamming the door behind her. "I think some Hydra agents still want Bucky dead!"


	6. Chapter 6

"We're surrounded," Black Widow growled, ducking so that she and Falcon were out of sight of the windows. No one in the room noticed how still the Winter Soldier had gotten or how conflicted his expression was.

"I can see that," Steve grunted, reaching for his familiar shield. It had taken the remnants of SHIELD three days to find the thing, three days in which Steve felt completely vulnerable. However, the all-American soldier quickly donned the straps he wore to holster his shield. "Natasha! Can we get out of here?"

"Negative," she replied, pulling out dual pistols and quickly firing through an already shattered window. "There's too many, and Falcon is bleeding out from a bullet to the shoulder."

"How did they find us?" Steve was nothing but confused. The location they were in - a rainforest - was far too out-of-the-way for an organization like HYDRA. The grip he had on his shield tightened in expectation of a fight.

"I told them."

Everyone in the room turned to see the Winter Soldier staring at the wall with an intense gaze.

"You did what?" Shocked, Steve Rogers could only stare at his old friend. Would he really have done that?

"He's not lying," Black Widow said, coming up behind the Winter Soldier and pulling a comm device out of his ear. "The bastard was going to betray us the whole time!"

The Winter Soldier looked up and saw Steve staring at him, his expression somehow calm. It was almost like he had expected the Winter Soldier to betray him, and that hurt the Winter Soldier more than he would care to admit, even to himself.

"That's not what we have to worry about right now," Falcon coughed, one hand applying pressure to the wound in his shoulder. "We need to get out of here!"

"Not an option," Black Widow snapped. "I already told you that, and they're jamming our distress signals!"

Steve and the man that used to be Bucky were still having a kind of staring contest that neither party seemed willing to break out of. With a sigh, Black Widow glanced out the window again. No doubt the soldiers were still firing, and the walls of the cabin wouldn't offer much more protection for very longer. Suddenly, she frowned. The hail of bullets had seemingly ceased. Falcon had noticed as well, and was giving Black Widow a confused look.

"Everyone, stay here," Black Widow ordered. Slowly, she eased over to the door and pushed it open with her foot, remaining to one side. Instead of the expected rain of gunfire, there was nothing but the usual sounds of the rainforest, though those were more distant than usual due to the loud gunfire that had likely scared off the wildlife. Cautiously, Black Widow slid outside, keeping her guns ready. If anyone so much as twitched, they would get a bullet between the eyes. However, Black Widow lowered her weapons when she saw all of the collapsed HYDRA soldiers. There was one thing in common about all of the soldiers: they had arrows protruding from their bodies. There was only one person that was capable of such high-accuracy high-speed shooting with a bow and arrow.

"Come on out, Barton!" Natasha yelled, holstering her pistols. Immediately, a man jumped out of one of the tall nearby trees, a black bow across his back by a quiver full of multi-purpose arrows. There was an easy grin on his face which only got brighter when he looked at Natasha.

"Hello, Natasha. Long time no see."

"We saw each other yesterday," Natasha replied flatly. "What are you doing here?"

"Fury got a bit impatient. You know how he wants the Winter Soldier locked up and-"

"Clint!" Natasha hissed, cutting him off, but it was too late. Steve was behind Natasha, his expression so blank it was angry.

"You want to _arrest_ Bucky?" Steve asked, his tone intense.

"Cap, he did kill at least two dozen people and is an ally of HYDRA," Clint replied, holding up his hands. "Just look around. Isn't this proof that he doesn't want to be saved? He doesn't even _think_ he _needs_ to be saved!"

"You don't know him!" Steve yelled back. "Bucky wouldn't do that!"

"Hate to break it to you, but whoever you've been talking to isn't Bucky," Clint growled. "Fury was explicit. Whatever they did to him is permanent."

"How could you even think that?" Steve seethed. "You know what it's like to be controlled, and look where you are now!"

The color drained out of Clint Barton's face and his hands dropped to his sides. Even Natasha gave Steve a shocked look, surprised at the man's outburst. Apparently the Winter Soldier was more of a touchy subject than Captain America was willing to admit. Usually, Steve wouldn't bring up what had happened to Clint during the Loki incident.

"Sorry, Clint," Steve eventually sighed, rubbing his face. "I just . . ."

"It's fine." Clint still seemed offended, but he was willing to brush it off. He still got flashbacks from that, and every now and then he would wake up in a cold sweat, sometimes in a different room than the one he went to sleep in.

Suddenly, there was an explosion from inside the house. The three people outside were thrown from their feet, with Natasha and Clint being knocked out from the impact of their heads on exposed rocks. Steve groaned, shifting and looking back at the splinters of the destroyed building. At the last second, he'd been able to deflect flying debris with his shield, but his body still ached.

There was one familiar silhouette that stood in the rubble, holding the unconscious form of Falcon with his metal arm. Steve's eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"No, Bucky-" he coughed, but he was cut off when dust coated his throat and forced him to cough instead of speak.

"HYDRA wants to talk to you," the Winter Soldier growled, tossing the injured Falcon aside and walking over to a downed Captain America. In a swift movement, the Winter Soldier kicked Captain America hard enough to instantly knock him out cold.

"Good work," a HYDRA agent grunted, climbing to his feet. There was no arrow wound on him, so he had likely been playing dead. "Your acting was incredible."

The Winter Soldier said nothing, simply staring at the unconscious man at his feet. His expression betrayed nothing of what he was feeling, but his eyes were full of internal conflict. The HYDRA soldier didn't notice as he approached Steve, specially-made handcuffs clutched in his fingers.

He didn't even notice that the Winter Soldier grew more tense the closer the agent got. Once the handcuffs were on Steve, the HYDRA agent sighed.

"Pick him up," he ordered the Winter Soldier. "We need to get back to base before these idiots wake up and signal for help. That archer was just the first of them."

The Winter Soldier still did not move, his gaze fixed in front of him while his jaw muscles clenched. He flexed and relaxed his hands, by now used to the feeling of his metal arm moving. He barely even realized it was metal at this point.

"What are you waiting for?" The HYDRA soldier snapped. "Pick him up and let's- agh!" His fingers scrabbled at the hunting knife now buried in his throat, blood spurting out from around the wound. In his last moments of life, the HYDRA agent saw the Winter Soldier staring at him, an angry expression on his face.

"I don't take orders from you," the Winter Soldier growled. Some of his memory had returned; enough to know that he didn't always work for HYDRA. If they weren't the ones who created him, then he owed them no more loyalty than the man at his feet. He realized that now.

Looking around, the Winter Soldier saw that he would have to leave the area. He couldn't stay where more people would find him. He'd heard that man - Clint -talk about how SHIELD wanted him captured, and he couldn't let that happen. With one last glance at the desolated wooden cabin, the Winter Soldier reached down, picked up the Captain, and began walking away.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Falcon came to slowly, blinking and groaning. His shoulder hurt more than he wouldn't expected - it wasn't the first time he'd been shot - but someone had bandaged it. Looking around, he saw SHIELD personnel swarming the area, clearing out the wreckage of the cabin. Currently, Falcon was on a small gurney, with Black Widow and Hawkeye next to him. They had bandages wrapped around their heads and were probably going to stay out for a while.

"Good. You're awake."

Falcon blinked and saw the one intimidating eye of none other than Nicholas Fury staring down at him. Instantly, he began sweating. The guy just had _that_ strong of a presence.

"What happened here?" Falcon asked, sitting up, putting most of the pressure on his good arm.

"Seems as if you and Cap were attacked," Fury replied, standing up straight and clasping his hands behind his back. "The Captain is missing, Natasha and Clint are unconscious, and your cabin is dust and splinters. The question is, Sam, not _what_ happened - we already know that - but _how_ and _why_ it happened."

That's what Falcon got for asking a super spy a question: more questions and no real answers.

"Sir!" A SHIELD agent was sprinting over to Fury, a slip of paper in his hands. "We found this in the trees!"

Fury fixed the man with his signature look until the agent got the clue to hand over the slip of paper so that Nick Fury could read it. Falcon couldn't help but wonder how the guy read stuff and drove with just one eye; wouldn't he have no depth perception?

"It appears as if our friend was part of this," Fury sighed, handing the note to Falcon, who read it out loud for any curious agents nearby.

"I am the Winter Soldier. If you are reading this, Fury, then I have your captain with me. If you want to see him alive, you will contact HYDRA to negotiate a ransom. If you do not do so within forty-eight hours, the captain will be killed and examined for his super-soldier serum." Falcon swallowed. "That's not good."

"Maybe not," Fury said, "but it's not entirely true, either."

"What?"

"Look around, Falcon."

The man complied, and almost immediately saw the unconscious bodies of the HYDRA men.

"What am I looking at?" Falcon asked. "They were knocked out with arrows. What's that supposed to mean? Hawkeye got a few good hits in before going down?"

"Not all of them died from arrows." Fury nodded to a group of nearby agents, who parted to reveal one HYDRA agent who was in a fairly large puddle of blood, unlike his comrades. Buried in his throat was a hunting knife. "Barton wouldn't use a hunting knife like that," Fury said.

"And neither would Steve," Sam added, frowning. "Then who-?"

"Think about it," Fury interrupted, his eye boring into Falcon. "Who else was here?"

The Black Widow was out of the question. She didn't use knives like that unless she was desperate, and even then Falcon doubted that she would go for the throat instead of the heart. Also, the HYDRA operative would have more puncture wounds or other wear and tear if there had been any kind of struggle.

"He hadn't expected to be hit," Falcon mused. "Otherwise he would've unholstered his weapon." Sure enough, the HYDRA man had a rifle slung over his back, the safety most likely engaged. "So whoever it was . . . worked for HYDRA." His eyes widened in understanding. "The Winter Soldier did that?"

"He does like flair," Fury said, recalling how the Winter Soldier had attacked him while the director was driving in his SUV.

"But why would he do that? Doesn't he work for HYDRA?" Falcon was confused. Yes, the Winter Soldier had seemed less hostile while he was restrained and even willing to talk, so why would he suddenly switch sides and then switch sides again? "Too much switching sides," Falcon muttered under his breath, too quietly for Nick Fury to hear.

"Seems as if the Winter Soldier is starting to get ideas of his own," Fury replied. "It could be dangerous for Cap, especially given their history."

"Yeah . . ." Falcon said, blinking. "So the note is what, pointless?"

"I believe it was put there before the Winter Soldier began thinking for himself," Fury said. "And I don't think HYDRA will be very pleased with how their favorite assassin betrayed them."

* * *

Steve groaned, feeling consciousness slowly returning. His head felt like someone had been playing a radio in it at max volume for hours and then blown the radio up for good measure.

His eyes opened slowly, and it took him a minute to place his surroundings. After a moment, Steve realized that he was in some sort of basement, with dirt walls and a dirt floor. He was seated in a metal chair very similar to the one that the Winter Soldier had been in previously, though this one looked newer and more sturdy. The clamps would no doubt be able to hold him, no matter what he did. Captain America was completely powerless.

Footsteps made the captain snap his attention to a stairwell leading up, where someone was coming down. Steve frowned when he saw the Winter Soldier step into the basement, still wearing that strange eyeshadow. Steve thought about asking him about it, but then remembered the expression the Winter Soldier had when Natasha had asked a very similar question.

"Is this really necessary?" Steve inquired of his former friend, spreading out his fingers to demonstrate that that was all he could do.

"I did take off your handcuffs," the Winter Soldier replied, leaning against the far wall and crossing his arms.

"What a leap of faith," Steve muttered, rolling his eyes. Apparently there was still some of his sarcastic old friend in that person a few meters away. "Are you going to let me out?"

"No."

"Why not, Bucky?"

The man across from Steve noticeably flinched at the name, even though he'd already admitted that he remembered it.

"Stop calling me that," the Winter Soldier ordered, his eyes like flint.

"What else am I supposed to call you?" Steve snapped back, annoyed with the man across from him for the first time in over seventy years. "As far as I can tell, you're still with HYDRA, so do you want me to call you a HYDRA agent?"

"Shut up," the Winter Soldier hissed. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Maybe not," Steve admitted, not looking away from the Winter Soldier for an instant, "but at least I know what I'm fighting for!" _Mostly_ , he added silently. The events of the past year had really made that statement unclear.

"What makes you think I don't?" The Winter Soldier retorted, his eyes narrowing. Steve realized that it was easy to get on his nerves. He paused a moment before answering, thinking through what he was saying.

"Because if you did, I would either be with SHIELD or with HYDRA," Steve said quietly, "and it seems as if I'm at neither."

"I don't need to fight on one side of a war," the Winter Soldier snapped. "I can fight neither."

"You really think you can do that, soldier?" Steve asked, the last bit slipping off his tongue before he could stop it. The Winter Soldier growled slightly, but didn't say anything in response. "Listen to me," he needed to at least try and get through to whatever was left of Bucky, "when I said I was with you to the end of the line, I meant it. I'm never going to fight you like this."

"You couldn't fight me if you wanted to," the man replied, but his tone was uncertain.

The Winter Soldier was confused by the man sitting across from him. He wasn't arguing or begging, not even willing to get rid of the proud look on his face, even though he was completely at the Winter Soldier's mercy. Even now, the man was practically lecturing him with a familiarity that made his skin crawl. The Winter Soldier knew that he had known this man at some point; that much was more than obvious. He remembered his name - or what had been his name - and a few brief images of combat, but that was it.

However, it was enough to give the Winter Soldier pause when he looked at the man called Steve Rogers. He felt curiosity, something he hadn't felt in a while. The people at HYDRA had always told him that he was fighting for what was right, but Steve Rogers had thrown everything he had into stopping him. Judging from what the Winter Soldier had observed of Steve Rogers over the past five months, he was a man of at least some integrity and also firmly believed that he was doing what was right.

How could two people who believed in opposite things both be doing what was right?

The Winter Soldier's head hurt, like it was being squeezed, and he shut his eyes, trying to focus. He had the urge to turn in Steve Rogers to HYDRA; those were his orders, after all.

But maybe those orders weren't worth following. He could learn things from Steve Rogers; about who he was, what he had done, why HYDRA found it so necessary to keep in on a tight leash.

Because the Winter Soldier was realizing something now. HYDRA kept him on a leash so tight it was surprising that he had not been strangled by it yet. Every time he completed his objective, he was immediately put somewhere where his memory became fuzzy, only to be given more objectives when he got out again. There was no freedom there, yet Steve Rogers seemed to act as if freedom was a right, whereas HYDRA wanted to control freedom as if it was dangerous.

The Winter Soldier didn't know what to think.


	8. Chapter 8

Steve Rogers was still staring at the Winter Soldier, who seemed to be conflicted. The Winter Soldier, for his part, was far past the point of conflicted; a headache that seemed to be constant at this point was only growing in his mind and the presence of Captain America was doing nothing to help. The Winter Soldier wasn't sure if bringing the man with him had been a good idea, but the move had been instinctual.

"Why did you save me?"

The Winter Soldier turned and saw Steve still staring at him, a determined expression on his face.

"I didn't save you," he growled in reply.

"Yes, you did," Steve argued, leaning forward in his chair. "I know you did. You can't deny it; I just want to know why."

"There is no 'why'!" The Winter Soldier snapped.

"So you did save me."

"No!"

"But you're acting like it."

Why was this man so calm? Why couldn't he just shut up?

"I didn't save you. Those weren't my orders."

"You don't seem to be following your orders now," Steve pointed out.

"You act like you want me too."

"Now you're jumping to conclusions, soldier. I don't want to be at HYDRA's disposal any more than I want to be a pawn for SHIELD, but I certainly prefer one over the other."

Steve couldn't help but notice how tense the other man was getting. He couldn't stop the pang of regret that pulsed through him; if he'd been more careful, if he'd helped his friend, if he'd searched for him after, maybe Bucky wouldn't have fallen into the clutches of HYDRA.

The Winter Soldier still said nothing, which was beginning to make Steve uneasy. It was easier to understand your opponent if they gave some reason for their actions, but the Winter Soldier was doing nothing. He just seemed . . . confused. And angry.

"Whatever you're thinking," Steve eventually said, "I'm sure letting me out of this chair won't hurt."

"You're not going to get out of that chair just by asking," a new voice said.

Steve looked up to see someone else descending the staircase and his stomach dropped slightly. He turned his eyes to the Winter Soldier, his gaze accusing.

"You brought me to HYDRA after all," he growled.

The man with the metal arm said nothing as a HYDRA agent slowly circled Steve.

"If I'm honest," the HYDRA agent mused, "we wanted you more than we wanted . . . Bucky." His voice was full of distaste when he said the name, and he shot the Winter Soldier a dirty look. "He's proved to be a difficult challenge over the past years for both me and my predecessors."

"You're a scientist," Steve said flatly. "What are you after? The serum?"

"Well, yes," the man admitted, "but that can wait. How would you like to join your friend Bucky in the service of HYDRA?"

"I'd rather die than serve you scum."

"I thought so, Captain. Unfortunately, you will not have a choice. You see, you are not in some dirt basement. You are in a HYDRA base, which you will not be escaping."

"I've proved you people wrong before," Steve spat, glaring at the HYDRA agent. What caused a man to join an organization like HYDRA? What had this man been like before?

"Yes, yes, I know all of the stories, Captain. Soldier, disable the hologram!"

The Winter Soldier didn't move, his expression stormy as he looked at the HYDRA agent.

"What are you, deaf?" The man yelled. "I _order_ you to turn off the hologram!"

The man with the metal arm blinked and his brief moment of defiance was over as he pressed a previously unnoticed button. Immediately, the dirt walls flickered and were replaced with metal ones and Steve truly realized that he was, in fact, imprisoned in a HYDRA base. The HYDRA agent laughed, pulling out a panel in the wall to reveal a variety of tools that were no doubt designed purely for torture. Steve went taut, but there was nothing he could do, being restrained in the chair and all. His eyes went back to his old friend.

"Where's my shield?" He asked. The man was caught slightly off-guard with the question - Steve could see it in his eyes - but didn't reply. Apparently the Winter Soldier wasn't as independent as he had acted.

"I wouldn't even try anything with your friend, Captain," the HYDRA agent smirked. "He just went through another round of . . . treatment for his condition."

"Condition of being a free American," Steve snarled. He couldn't believe that HYDRA would do something so horrible.

Actually, he could.

"Freedom is a disease!" The HYDRA man snapped. "You would do best to recognize that!"

"If it was a disease," Steve replied coldly, "then why is there a nation founded on it?"

"Because that nation is doomed to fall. You see your economy, your corrupt politicians and businessmen. Look me in the eye and tell me that freedom has helped you." Steve and the HYDRA man had a short glaring contest, which Steve won, but he couldn't come up with anything to say in response to the HYDRA man.

The entire time, the Winter Soldier had been staring straight ahead, not focusing on anything in the room. However, the fact that his right hand was clenched into a fist gave away some of what he was thinking.

"No matter how you put it," the HYDRA man said, walking up to Steve with a syringe in his hand, "your 'freedom' is a sickness that needs to be cured, and HYDRA is here to cure it. And you, Captain America, are going to be the second of many to be saved."

Steve could do nothing as the needle was jammed into him and the sedative dispersed. Even with the super soldier serum circulating through his body, there was nothing he could do but black out.

The Winter Soldier watched as machines were placed around the unconscious Captain America. He recognized a few of them, though he didn't know how or when he'd seen them. Either way, he felt uneasy, as if he was the one who was supposed to be in the chair, not Steve Rogers.

"You did a decent job," the HYDRA man said, coming up to the Winter Soldier. "Now you need to go back to your room."

He knew what that meant: darkness and silence.

"No."

The HYDRA man froze.

"What was that?" He asked dangerously. He knew that he had to keep the Winter Soldier from seeing the process that the Captain was going to undergo; it would unravel the treatments that the Winter Soldier had gone through himself.

"No," the Winter Soldier repeated, not knowing where the defiance was coming from.

"Listen here, _soldier_ ," the HYDRA agent hissed, "you will follow orders. Do you understand?"

The Winter Soldier felt the need to follow the orders of the man in front of him but at the same time he wanted to stay, to watch what was going to happen to this man who claimed to know him. He had probably been lying, as the HYDRA agents had told him, but the Winter Soldier was still curious.

"I understand," he eventually said, feeling the desire to follow orders win over curiosity.

"Good. Now go."

The taller and stronger of the two men turned and left, walking up the stairs and leaving the American symbol of freedom to his fate. However, as he walked, that seed of curiosity only grew. It was as if suppressing it only made the feeling worse. There was an elevator nearby, the Winter Soldier knew. He recalled what Steve Rogers had asked: _"Where's my shield?"_

The Winter Soldier stepped into the elevator and hesitated. After a few moments of deliberation, he pressed a floor and waited as the elevator descended.


	9. Chapter 9

"What do you mean, you don't know where he is? He has to wear the loudest costume out of all the Avengers!"

"Except Thor. And Iron man."

"Your input is not necessary here, Falcon," Nick Fury snapped. The SHIELD agent that had reported to the director looked nervous, especially since the guy had been the bearer of bad news regarding the (lack of) knowledge about Captain America's whereabouts.

Falcon, for his part, sighed. He was just trying to lighten the mood, but Fury was having none of that.

"Director," a newcomer said, walking up to the small group. Sensing that his opportunity of escape had come, the SHIELD agent quickly fled the scene, to be replaced by Hawkeye and Black Widow, both of whom were fully dressed in their combat gear. "Permission to search for Captain America?" It was Black Widow who was speaking, one hand on her hip and a superior expression on her face. Falcon had no doubt in his mind that the two of the Avengers were a match for the Winter Soldier.

Before Fury could reply, another SHIELD agent came running up, waving an image.

"Sir!" He yelled. "We have confirmation that HYDRA is holding Captain America prisoner!"

Nick Fury gave the agent the most intense look Falcon had ever seen, all channeled through his one good eye. The agent somehow withstood the visual onslaught, though he was sweating with nervousness, and held out the photo. Falcon heard Black Widow mutter something to Hawkeye.

"He had to print it out? When did we even get a printer?"

Everyone within earshot except Fury and the agent cracked a small smile. Fury, meanwhile, was glaring at the picture with everything he had, making the new agent quite uncomfortable, even as he began walking away, sensing that he wasn't needed anymore.

"Sir?" Falcon said tentatively. "I think it would be great if we played by kindergarten rules and shared the picture with everyone."

"Secrets secrets are no fun," Hawkeye muttered, earning himself an elbow from Black Widow.

With an unintelligible grunt, Fury tossed the picture to Falcon, who juggled it for a few brief moments before finally catching it and looking at it. When he did, his breath caught in his throat. The image depicted Captain America strapped in a chair, various nefarious machines arranged around him. There were more than a few needles, and HYDRA personnel were visible.

"That equipment . . ." Black Widow murmured, somehow having gotten behind Falcon without the man noticing. "I know it."

"Care to share?" Hawkeye asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'd bet your left arm, Clint, that that's the same machinery HYDRA used on the Winter Soldier. I saw it during my training."

Black Widow had gone tense as she mentioned her training, and it was obvious that any questions from the audience on that topic would not be welcome, even though it was Black Widow herself who had brought it up.

"Hold on a second," Hawkeye protested, " _my_ left arm? What about yours?"

"Why would I risk my own arm?" Black Widow replied sweetly, giving Hawkeye a smile so obviously insincere it made Falcon roll his eyes.

"Can we get back to the point, people?" Fury demanded, instantly catching everyone's attention. "Cap is currently prisoner in an enemy base in a location we don't know yet. We need to find him, before HYDRA extracts any of the secrets hidden within him."

"Wait," Falcon muttered, frowning. "Didn't we say earlier that the Winter Soldier had taken Cap with him and not to HYDRA?"

"Apparently," Fury replied darkly, "we were wrong."

* * *

The Winter Soldier stared straight ahead as the elevator descended, his eyes focused on everything and nothing. His mind flashed back to what the Captain had been talking about - _if freedom is a disease, why is there a nation founded on it?_ \- and grit his teeth. The man's words simply wouldn't get out of his head, not matter what the Winter Soldier did.

_Where's my shield?_

His metal hand slammed into the side of the elevator, leaving a sizable dent and causing the entire mechanism to shudder, momentarily screeching to a half before it continued moving again. The Winter Soldier's breathing slowly calmed while he held his right hand - his flesh-and-blood hand - in front of his face. He frowned, seeing that it was doing something he'd never seen before.

It was trembling. Why was it trembling?

The Winter Soldier felt the urge to hit something again, but he contained himself. He shouldn't be feeling this way; his emotions were his to control. He would not be controlled by forces outside of his control.

A headache sprung up and thoughts previously suppressed began pouring into the Winter Soldier's mind. _I am being controlled. HYDRA is controlling me. They wipe my memory; I know that. But I let them do it because it's the only way . . . it's the only way for what?_

The elevator made a soft noise to signify that it had arrived at the correct floor and the doors smoothly slid open. The Winter Soldier quickly stepped out and made his way through semi-familiar corridors, heading to a place he barely remembered. He hadn't been in that area of the base since he had gotten his last upgrade to his arm, and even then it was a fuzzy memory.

_Did they wipe that from my mind too?_

He immediately banished the thought, trying to focus on what he was doing. Distractions would do nothing but make him lose sight of why he was here, why HYDRA needed him.

_But does HYDRA actually need me?_

With a deep breath, the Winter Soldier silenced the thoughts in his head and simply concentrated on walking, one foot in front of the other. It took five minutes of traveling for the Winter Soldier to make it to the advanced sciences division of the HYDRA base, and stepped inside the main lab. There was a glass wall separating the lab from where a person would enter, making a ring around the main lab through a one-way mirror, so that the scientists could focus completely on what they were doing.

The room surrounding the lab was dark, so the Winter Soldier stepped inside, hearing the clear door slide shut behind him. Because of the two-way mirrors, the scientists couldn't see what the Winter Soldier was doing, nor could they even tell that someone else had entered the lab. On top of the mirrors, the scientists were completely occupied by their work: a circular shield emblazoned with a star in the middle, decorated in red, white, and blue. It was suspended in a cylindrical pillar of light, with holographic projections around it that the scientists were interacting with, presumably scanning the shield. Due to the soundproofing, the Winter Soldier couldn't hear what the scientists were saying. He supposed that he could read their lips, but it wasn't worth the effort. The Winter Soldier wasn't at the science wing for an education.

A memory came to the man with a metal arm as he stared at the shield, unmoving. Screams, falling. A terrible agony in his left arm, before it was metal. Shadows.

The images were gone almost as soon as they had come, but it was enough to make the man uneasy.

 _I was something . . . someone . . . before I was a part of HYDRA. I was comrades with Captain America . . . and I fought . . ._ against _HYDRA . . .?_

The Winter Soldier continued staring at the shield, imprinting the image on his scattered memory. Meanwhile, his fists were only getting tighter, with the urge to hit something only getting stronger.

_I was a part of the . . . United States military . . . I was Captain America's . . . partner . . .?_

He violently shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

_Not possible. I would never fight alongside a person like that. It's. Not. Possible._

His hands were on his head, and the Winter Soldier slowly fell to his knees, feeling a battle going on in his mind that he was powerless to even hope to control.

_If I fought with Steve Rogers . . . then why did I join HYDRA?_

The pounding in the Winter Soldier's brain intensified.

 _No . . . I didn't_ join _HYDRA. I was . . . indoctrinated. My memory . . . they erased it._

The Winter Soldier's blue eyes shot wide open as he came to that realization, and his left arm ached, the metal seeming to burn where it came into contact with his skin.

 _My name . . . was . . . no,_ is _. . . James Buchanan Barnes. I was given the nickname Bucky by my friends, before I was in HYDRA. HYDRA . . . took me away, brainwashed me. I still . . . can't . . . remember anything!_

Bucky's eyes slowly opened and he took a few deep, calming breaths while he tried to sort through what had just happened in his brain.

_All of the blocks . . . they're vanishing. I can . . . remember. Some things._

Bucky gasped as a few of the things he'd done hit him, and hit him hard.

_HYDRA . . . you bastards._

With that thought in mind, the Winter Soldier stood up, one hand still holding his head since his mind was reeling.

_I know what I have to do._

Bucky drew back his left arm, his eyes narrowing as a familiar anticipation of a fight ran through him. In a sudden, explosive motion, Bucky's arm short forward in a powerful punch, easily smashing through the mirror. The scientists all turned, various expressions of surprise on their faces. As a thousand shards of mirror clattered to the metal floor, Bucky held out his metal hand, a deadly look on his face.

"I'm going to want that shield," he growled.


	10. Chapter 10

Captain America felt tired. No, not just tired. Exhausted. The legendary soldier felt a bone-bending, mind-numbing exhaustion that ate away at his mind. He hadn't felt that way since before the serum. It was as if every muscle he had had been pushed to its limit and then some, though there was little pain, just a powerful ache.

With a massive effort, the Captain focused on the sounds around him. He could neither open his eyes nor move, but at least he could listen without giving the fact away that he was awake.

There was much beeping, with even more footsteps. Captain America heard voices and concentrated on those, trying to decipher the words. Thanks to his slightly enhanced hearing from the serum, could he pick out the words and fill in any gaps mentally.

"-oldier didn't return to his room."

"Well, find him! I don't want him walking loose in this base. Something might trigger his memories."

"We're searching for him now, sir, but we're having difficult locating him. It appears as if half the cameras in this base are still being repaired after our last failed experiment. That power surge knocked out most of the base and nearly brought us up on SHIELD's radar."

 _This is not a new location_ , Captain America thought with surprise. _Even so, SHIELD probably won't be finding me any time soon. Looks like it's up to me. But . . ._

He tried to move, but still couldn't do anything. His limbs were too heavy, the effort to great.

 _How many sedatives did they_ give _to me?_

Captain America thought about that for a moment. If he could have, he would have smiled.

_Probably all of them._

He kept his breathing slow and steady, realizing that it was even slower than usual. If the drugs he'd been forced to take were affecting his breathing, then his escape would be slightly more difficult than he originally thought.

_It's fine. I'll think of something._

The captain tried to be positive, but even he was having difficulty coming up with a plausible plan. He could feel that he was still in the chair, and the metal straps hadn't budged. No matter how strong Captain America was, he wasn't breaking solid metal. He'd need the Hulk for that. Or Thor. Or Iron Man.

_I thought I was strong seventy years ago, but the heroes now are dwarfing my abilities._

With a mental jolt, Captain America realized that the scientists were still talking, although they had now switched topics. Quickly, he directed his hearing to the voices again.

"You don't get it, do you?" One of the scientists was growling. His voice was deep and somewhat guttural. "If we don't move soon, we will be discovered. I don't care how central this facility is, it's about to be compromised."

"But SHIELD was crippled by our last infiltration," the other scientist replied, his voice much lighter and somehow bright. "There's no way-"

"Listen here, _recruit_ ," Guttural hissed in a voice quiet enough to make it difficult for Captain America to hear, "I know you just got here, but you're going to quickly figure out that underestimating SHIELD will only lead to disaster."

"Yeah, right," Bright scoffed. "I may be new, but unlike you I have faith in HYDRA."

"Are you questioning my loyalty? I've been here for far longer than you. Just do as I ordered!"

"Fine." Bright didn't sound too happy, which suited Captain America just fine. A sulking soldier was less likely to pay attention to crucial details in a situation, so that was just another factor that the captain would take advantage of.

_If I get out of here before they start their experiments._

Captain America had no doubt that he was going to be experimented on. HYDRA had said so themselves, that they were going to make him into another Winter Soldier.

_I will never let that happen. And I'll save the first Winter Soldier while I'm at it. I won't lose Bucky again, not to HYDRA scum. I don't care if I have to drag him out of here or knock him out; I'll do it._

The room had gone quiet, as if everyone had left. The famous soldier did nothing, sensing that he was missing something. Sure enough, he picked up on someone else breathing. Judging from their labored inhales and exhales Captain America guessed that the person had some kind of problem with their lungs.

Whoever the person was, they were walking up to the captain. Their labored breathing sounded as if it was right on top of the man strapped in the chair, and when the man spoke Captain America realized it was the man he had subconsciously dubbed as "Guttural".

"The great Captain America," he wheezed. "How pathetic."

 _Do they have to lord it over me every time? It always ends badly for the bad guys. Actually, that means that I should just wait. Hopefully, something happens. No, something_ will _happen, and at the last second, too. It always does._

Captain America tried to be confident in his own mind, but even so the idea of having to wait for something to happen that he could use was nerve wracking. The Captain liked to be able to rely on himself in desperate situations, not forces outside of his control.

"You thought you could ruin our plot with SHIELD and not pay the price?" The scientist continued, sounding uncomfortably close.

_Well, no, but if the price is listening to you vent your frustrations at me, I can deal with it._

The captain couldn't help the sarcastic thought that popped into his mind. He'd been spending too much time around Falcon and Black Widow, though mostly the former.

"I'm going to find out what makes your self-righteous mind tick, _Captain_ ," Guttural continued, "and I'm going to scoop it out and make you a weapon for HYDRA. You're going to join your friend. What was his name? Jim? John?"

_James._

"Well, whatever his name was," the scientist said, oblivious to Captain America's rising anger, "you're going to be friends again."

_No. Not while in HYDRA._

"May as well start the procedure," Guttural muttered. "I wish you could hear me, Captain America, to know your own demise."

_You wish you were the one to be the end of me, but that will never happen. I can guarantee it._

Captain America felt the flame of defiance grow within him. No matter what happened, he would never fight for HYDRA, procedure or no procedure.

Guttural hummed a small tune that Captain America didn't recognize as various other sounds emanated from the machines surrounding the all-American hero.

There was a faint whirring from right next to Captain America's right ear. He could feel movement next to his ear as what was probably a kind of drill inched closer to his head.

_Any second now . . ._

The drill got closer, enough for the small wind it generated to stir Captain America's hair.

_Come on . . ._

His nerves stood on end as he felt the drill touch his skin. Instantly, a painful, burning sensation emanated from the drill, but it suddenly stopped.

 _Painkillers,_ Captain America realized. However, they wouldn't last long, especially since HYDRA was quite literally drilling into his brain. Sure enough, the pain rapidly escalated.

_Whoever is coming, hurry it up!_

On cue, a door slammed open. Immediately, the drill pulled out, leaving Captain America somewhat breathless. The sedatives were still making it difficult for him to breathe, even when he was under stress.

 _I knew it_.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Guttural yelled, but he was abruptly cut off by a familiar-sounding _thunk_.

_I recognize that sound. Is that . . . my shield?_

The captain had used that defensive device as a throwing weapon more than enough times to have the noise it made when impacting a person ingrained in his memory, and that noise matched what he remembered.

There was a different sound that Captain America identified as Guttural falling to the floor, and then he heard someone walk up to him. For a few tense moments, there was nothing but two people breathing.

Suddenly, Captain America felt something metal brush against his skin by his restraints, and then one by one the bands were ripped off.

_Iron Man . . .?_

Steve was hoisted up into a sitting position and nearly fell back down, but someone was supporting him.

"Wake up," a rough voice ordered. A very familiar sounding voice . . .

Captain America quickly focused his thoughts. Whoever this was had just saved him, and the least he could do was fight against the sedatives coursing through his system. Distantly, he was aware of a warm trickle of blood coming from his head, but the injury was nothing too serious.

The captain concentrated and slowly forced his eyes to open. Once they were open it became much easier to keep them open, and Captain America squinted against the bright lights as his eyes adjusted. There was a blurry silhouette standing over him, one arm reflecting the light as if it were metal.

_I don't believe it._

"Bucky?" Captain America's mouth didn't seem to work right, but the man managed to get the name out while he stared at the other man in front of him.

"Time to go," the Winter Soldier said as a way of replying, completely ignoring what Captain America had said.

_I don't believe it . . ._

 


	11. Chapter 11

While Captain America was getting rescued by the Winter Soldier, Hawkeye and Black Widow were searching for the HYDRA base. Hawkeye, in his typical fashion, was talking to Black Widow the entire time.

"I'm not even kidding, Natasha," he was saying as they slipped through the trees, following the faint trail the Winter Soldier had left behind. "Chocolate ice cream is so much better than vanilla. How could you even _suggest_ otherwise?"

Black Widow held back a sigh and a smile at the same time. In truth, she had _suggested_ no such thing, but Clint had put the words in her mouth simply to comment on them. Black Widow knew that once Hawkeye got started, there was no stopping him. She tuned him out and focused on her tracking.

However, she couldn't help the worry that was still in the back of her mind, five months after she thought she had dealt with it. It was an insidious kind of worry; one that even Black Widow was having difficulty ignoring. It was far different than ignoring her partner, as Black Widow could do that easily.

That information dump . . . she had acted so confident, put a mask on for the world to see, but inside she had felt like a cornered animal. Even now, she still got wary looks from the people she passed, though they did their best to hide them. Even after all she'd done in service of SHIELD, people still doubted her loyalty after hearing about her past. No matter what Black Widow did now, what she had already done was still affecting her.

"Hey, Natasha, are you even listening to me?" Hawkeye was suddenly in front of her, a slight frown on his rugged face. "You won't tell me whether white cats or black cats are nicer!"

Black Widow couldn't help but wonder how this man had become the greatest archer in the world.

"Clint," she sighed, pushing past him, "is that really important right now? We need to find Captain America."

"Yeah yeah, I know. But come _on_. He's Captain America! He'll last until we get there-"

"That's not the right attitude to have," Black Widow snapped. "We need to get there as soon as possible. There is no time to have pointless debates."

Hawkeye looked disheartened for a moment, and then he smiled slightly.

"Fine. If you say so, Natasha."

As they continued going, Black Widow thought about Hawkeye. Of all the people, she had known that he would be the least affected by the information dump on the Internet. He already knew that Black Widow came from a troubled past – he'd even had to fight her more than once – and had still gone with her and trusted Black Widow with his life countless times. Even now, in the face of Captain America's abduction, he still had that slightly annoying easy-going attitude that seemed to have no context whatsoever.

"Natasha," Hawkeye suddenly said, stopping and kneeling, "we've got a problem."

"The tracks stop," Black Widow responded, kneeling next to him. "He must have gotten far enough away to find covering his tracks important."

"He'd good at it, too," Hawkeye grunted, standing up. "I'd say he gives you a run for your money."

"Don't bet on it," Black Widow replied, standing up smoothly. "He couldn't have hidden everything, and unless he got picked up by some vehicle farther away, he couldn't have gotten very far."

"These tracks are fairly new," Hawkeye commented. "I'd say that if he was walking and carrying Cap, he must be within a five square kilometer radius."

"Agreed. Let's inform Fury."

* * *

 

"Falcon," Fury commanded, "Black Widow and Hawkeye think that Captain America is within a five kilometer radius of our location."

"You want me to help with the search?" Falcon asked, slowly rotating his arm. He was still in pain from his last encounter with the Winter Soldier, but he had recovered more quickly than he would've expected.

Or he was just stubborn.

"Of course I do," Fury snapped. "Now get your gear and start searching. There will be other ships assisting you. See anything, report it to me immediately."

"Yes, sir," Falcon replied, saluting somewhat sarcastically and then jogging off to find his gear.

He was going to find Steve.

* * *

The Winter Soldier raised an eyebrow as Captain America sat there and blinked, seeming to have difficulty focusing on what was happening. He looked around, wondering what was going on. His eyes landed on a couple empty syringes and he sighed. Of course they would need to sedate him.

"Hey," the Winter Soldier growled, "I get you're sedated, but wake. Up. I can't carry you out of here while getting attacked."

Captain America stared at the man in front of him, who was showing more expression than Captain America had ever seen before. There was actually a little bit of concern in his eyes.

_Is this . . . Bucky?_

"Come _on,_ Steve. I don't have all day."

Right after the words came out of Bucky's mouth, an alarm sounded. Flashing lights instantly bathed the room in a red hue, reminding the two men inside that they had to get moving.

Steve Rogers, for his part, was desperately struggling against the rapidly fading effects of the sedatives HYDRA had used on him. His eyes wandered around the room until they alighted on a very familiar piece of vibranium metal, emblazoned with a clear star on it. The iconic shield was buried in one wall, with a smear of blood visible on it. Nearby, Guttural was collapsed on the floor, his eyes glassy and unseeing. Captain America had to admit that the guy looked exactly like his voice sounded.

"I . . ." Captain America gasped. "Need . . . my shield." His strength was beginning to return more quickly as his serum-enhanced body fought off the effects of the sedatives. With a nod of acknowledgment, the Winter Soldier walked over to the shield and easily yanked it out of the wall using his metal arm. Moments later, he held it out to Captain America, who took it gladly.

The Winter Soldier said nothing more, staring at the man in front of him. So many conflicting emotions and feelings surged through him that it was difficult to think straight, with years of memories returning to him all at once, drowning out the mechanized assassin that HYDRA had wanted him to be and replacing that machine with a man who was trying to rescue his friend. The change was not pleasant, and Bucky could guess that he was going to pay for not stopping to sort through his memories later, but at least he was feeling more complete than he had in decades.

Captain America slowly stood up and immediately staggered, about to fall, but Bucky caught him by the shoulders and pushed him back up, acting purely on instinct. The captain stared at him, still caught by surprise by the sudden change in the Winter Soldier's actions and behavior.

 _I never lost faith in you, Bucky,_ he thought, knowing in the back of his mind that that was true. There was no way he would ever give up on a friend; especially one that seemed so conflicted.

"Thanks," Captain America muttered, blinking and clearing his head. He was almost completely free of the sedatives, that much he could tell. This time when he stood, he did so quickly, trusting that his body would support him. It did, and the captain grinned, seeing the slightly confused expression on his friend's face.

"Are we leaving now?" Bucky asked, his expression melting back into that mask of indifference. It seemed to be his default look, drilled into him by HYDRA so deeply it wouldn't be uprooted by his past.

"Yeah," Captain America coughed, rotating his shoulders and getting a feel for his shield again. "We should hurry. No doubt Fury is in a panic."

"Fury?"

"The director of SHIELD," Steve replied, giving his new ally a curious look. "Didn't you know that? I was sure they would inform you of things like that."

"I was informed enough to know that he was a man I was supposed to kill," Bucky replied quietly. "That was it. I was never given his name."

Captain America detected the subtle hint of warning in his friend's voice, the notice that the topic was not one that Bucky wanted to discuss.

"I see. Well then," Captain America said, walking over to the door, "let's get out of here."

Bucky smiled slightly and pulled a pistol out from somewhere on his person. Captain America didn't want to know where he'd gotten it. With a nod, both men dashed out into the corridor, Captain America taking point with his shield to take the brunt of enemy fire. Immediately, the soldier was nearly thrown back at the force of bullets hitting the circle of metal, but he stood his ground. Answering gunfire came from Bucky and with deadly accuracy the enemy-turned-ally took down every HYDRA soldier in the hallway. After he was finished, he reloaded his weapon with calm precision.

Captain America slowly stood up, glanced back at his friend, and cleared his throat.

"You know this place better than I do," he said. Bucky nodded, his expression intent.

"I know. Follow me; the nearest exit is this way."

Both men took off at a sprint, hoping to outrun the HYDRA troops that were no doubt attempting to cut them off.


	12. Chapter 12

"I'm not seeing anything," Falcon reported, swooping low over the trees, hoping to spot something, _anything_ that would give away a HYDRA base.

 _"Then search harder,"_ Nick Fury replied. Even through the radio, Falcon reflected, the guy's aura of authority was undeniable. So was the glare that he was no doubt directing at the nearest person. It seemed to be the director's natural expression, and an intimidating one at that.

"This isn't as easy as I make it look," Falcon grunted, shooting back up into the sky for a wider view. "I could use a little more appreciation around here."

 _I don't really mean that, but c'mon. I'm_ flying _! That's gotta count for something around here, right?_

Falcon thought about the other people he knew Fury associated with. There was Thor, god of thunder, who was basically a powerhouse on two legs with a beat-all end-all hammer, the Hulk, who didn't even need description, Iron Man, who defied all logic when it came to his version of logic, Captain America, a patriotic hero who was a great man at heart, Black Widow, who was merciless and highly trained in nearly everything, Hawkeye, who was both the most unpredictable man Falcon had ever met and the world's best archer.

_Compared to those guys, a man with mechanical wings doesn't amount to much. But I'll be damned if this isn't awesome._

Falcon let out an exhilarated yell as he did a barrel roll, smirking as he realized that most people would be feeling pretty queasy at this point.

_Does resistance to puking amount to anything?_

Falcon sighed.

_Probably not, though I can brag about it to Cap later . . . once I find the guy._

Fury did say that Falcon would be assisted by other airborne search parties, so Falcon tapped into that radio frequency.

"Anyone find anything?" Falcon called, his eyes scanning the landscape. There was a second's pause, followed by a chorus of "no, sirs" from the other search parties.

_Well, so much for that._

Falcon was so preoccupied with his internal sulking that he barely noticed the flash of bright light on his left. However, all the training he had gone through made him double back and fly lower and slower, focusing on the spot where the flash had come from.

He flew low over the canopy, until eventually Falcon realized that he would need to go below the treetops, which was pretty inconvenient. Gently and with great skill, the soldier made it through the top layer of trees and down to the rainforest floor, his feet sinking a few centimeters into a puddle of water. Falcon suppressed a groan, and then activated his radio.

"Fury, I think I've got something. Give me a second to check it out."

There was no reply, but Falcon knew that Fury had heard and was probably speaking to his agents, getting some teams ready. The man was prepared for everything.

"Alright," Falcon muttered to himself, looking around, "I know it's around here somewhere. Show yourself, you freaking secret HYDRA base!"

Surprisingly enough, there was no large flashing light to reveal the secret HYDRA base. Falcon was suitably disappointed, but refused to give up hope.

Falcon gave the area a thorough search, trusting his instincts.

 _"Anything?"_ Fury's voice crackled through Falcon's earpiece.

"Working on it," Falcon replied, bending around one of the thicker trees to see if there was anything there. "I saw a flash of something, but I'm not sure what."

 _"Keep searching."_ The radio channel went dead.

"Thanks for the support," Falcon sighed, sitting down on a nearby convenient rock. His surprise was considerable when the boulder shifted, nearly throwing the man off. He rolled to the side, coming up with a hunting knife in his hand, expecting a trap, but all he saw was the rock slowly shifting to the right. It was hard to miss the sudden flash that came from the metal underneath that caught the tiny amount of sunlight that made it to the rainforest floor. The tiniest bit must have been exposed in order for Falcon to see it from the air.

"Fury," Falcon said into his earpiece, "send your men. I found an entrance."

_Before Natasha and Clint could, too. I'm just that awesome. Apparently a guy with wings is a lot more important than they give me credit for._

Needless to say, Falcon was quite proud of himself as he sat down on another rock, confident that this one wouldn't move. In that position, he waited for reinforcements to arrive.

* * *

 

"Natasha," Clint gasped, "this is really not how we are supposed to be spending our time."

The world's greatest archer was currently suspended from a small ledge that was a good three meters tall. Hawkeye had accidentally mentioned Natasha's figure and was currently paying the price for it, though he really hadn't meant to be insulting, not that Natasha was one to forgive and forget.

"Take it back," Black Widow ordered, holding onto Hawkeye's ankles. If she dropped him, Hawkeye would likely end up in a very painful situation, though nothing fatal, not by a long shot.

"Okay, okay! I admit it. You're perfect. Now pull me _up_ , Natasha!"

"You don't sound honest."

Hawkeye could feel his partner's grip on his ankles loosen ever so slightly and he hurried to assure the woman that he was being sincere.

"No, it's not like that! I'm being perfectly honest, okay? I'm really, really, _really_ sorry."

There was a brief moment's pause in which Black Widow was most likely seriously considering dropping her partner, but in the end she hauled him back up the ledge. Hawkeye lay on his back for a minute, breathing hard due to the blood that had flowed to his head due to being suspended above the ground by his ankles for a few minutes.

"Please . . . don't . . . do . . . that . . . again," Hawkeye gulped, slowly getting his breath back.

"No promises," Black Widow replied. "Especially if you make a comment like that again, Clint."

"It was an accident!" The archer protested, but the raised eyebrow he got from the woman near him showed that she didn't believe him. Hawkeye groaned, slumping back to the ground.

"We need to get moving," Natasha eventually said. "I heard that Falcon has found an entrance to the HYDRA base. It would be smart if we got there quickly; Fury is already angry enough as it is right now."

"He's just pissed because he lost the American idol," Hawkeye muttered, smirking at his own comment. He sat up and found himself face-to-face with Black Widow. They were centimeters apart.

_How did she move without me hearing her?_

"Natasha . . ." Clint began, but Natasha's soft lips on his silenced him completely. Even his thoughts momentarily blurred, but he quickly pulled away. "What was that?" He demanded, jumping to his feet. Black Widow grinned slyly at him.

"Never heard of a good luck kiss, Clint?" She replied, vaguely, disappearing into the trees. Hawkeye stared after her, utterly confused, but had enough presence of mind to follow.

As he ducked through the rainforest, Hawkeye felt his mind going back to _that place_. That piece of himself that he'd locked away after the events in New York all that time ago. It had taken the archer months of therapy and intense self-deliberation to get over how Loki had played with his mind, how the god had switched his loyalties _so easily_. Even now, _that place_ still plagued Hawkeye, but he'd gotten better at blocking it out, as he was doing now.

At first, he had been a wreck once his mind had caught up to his actions, and not even Natasha had been able to really help him. Once he'd gotten his mind under control, of course, things had been more than understanding between the two of them, which suited Hawkeye just fine.

_She always did like it when I got myself into trouble._

Hawkeye sighed. He knew that his relationship with Black Widow was by no means "healthy" on any level, but that was fine with him. Natasha was the perfect puzzle for Clint, and while he knew he would never solve the deadly woman, he could at least help her deal with her life. They were similar enough in skill sets and in past experiences that Clint had no trouble understand Natasha even in her angriest of moods, which only happened in the mornings.

"Ah, whatever," he said aloud. "I've just gotta rescue Cap, and _then_ I can worry about my feelings."

He nodded once to himself and then increased his speed, chasing after Black Widow.

* * *

 

"This isn't working, Bucky!" Captain America yelled, throwing his shield and managing to knock out five separate HYDRA soldiers before the spinning disk returned to his hands. Immediately, he had to use it to deflect incoming bullets.

"I am well aware of that!" Bucky yelled back, ducking and dodging the hail of gunfire that permeated the corridor he was in. Somehow, he weaved around each bullet, sensing where it was likely to go and moving his body in a way that went away from that course. Although, with the sheer number of projectiles flying through the air, it was impossible for Bucky _not_ to be hit, but he managed to keep the damage minimal enough so that he could continue to fire back at the HDYRA agents.

 _I've got to end this quickly_ , Bucky thought, _but there's too many of the soldiers._

To add to the man's troubles, an ominous _click_ emanated from the pistol in his hand.

"Out of ammo," he growled, switching his grip on the gun. Without a second's hesitation, he charged at the nearest group of HYDRA soldiers, using the gun as a blunt weapon on top of his metal arm to knock each enemy out of the fight quickly and easily. In moments, the hallway was quiet.

"I don't think we can go through another firefight like that again," Captain America gasped, staggering to his feet.

 _He doesn't look too good. Then again_ , Bucky thought with a mental sigh, _neither do I._

"Agreed. Don't worry – we're almost at the exit."

The two men began cautiously moving towards the exit, which was maybe twenty meters away from their current position. All they had to do was turn right, and they would be at a ladder that led to the outside world above. Captain America stayed back, holding his shield up in case a HYDRA soldier tried his luck at shooting the two men from behind. If he did, the soldier would be in for an unpleasant, metallic, and thoroughly painful surprise.

Bucky rounded the corner, a rifle he'd picked up from a downed HYDRA soldier in his hands. He took two steps-

And froze. Captain America froze as well, sensing that something was wrong with his friend.

"What is it?" He asked, turning around to see what it was that had his comrade so panicked.

"That's . . . a HYDRA general," Bucky replied in a strangled voice. "I remember him . . . he was one of the ones who experimented on me . . . and he outranks me."

 _He gave me orders, and I followed them. He_ gives _me orders, and I_ follow _them._

Bucky stared at the harsh-looking soldier a few meters away who was blocking his method of escape with a cruel smile on his face.

"Soldier," the general growled, his voice grating on Bucky's mind, forcing him to unwillingly focus all of his attention on the general's next words, "subdue the captain."

Captain America turned to his friend in shock as Bucky physically trembled, battling against the "treatments" he had undergone from HYDRA.

 _It's a direct order . . . I_ have _to follow it . . . but I can't . . . I can't betray Steve!_

"That's an order!" The general yelled, the smug expression on his face indicating that he knew what effect he was having on the Winter Soldier, who was now kneeling and clutching at his pounding head.

_I need to follow orders . . . I need to follow orders . . . I need to follow orders . . . I. Need. To. Follow. Orders!_

The Winter Soldier grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown out the world. His head _hurt_ , like someone was ripping it open.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder. Instinctively, he flinched, but this hand wasn't there to hurt him. It was there to support him.

"You don't need to follow orders that you don't believe in, Bucky," Captain America said softly.

 _I don't need to follow orders? But . . . I_ do _. They said I did. I know I do! I have to! But I can't! Not now!_

The Winter Soldier yelled something incoherent and collapsed, unconscious.

"Bucky!" Steve cried, kneeling next to his friend. His glare immediately went to the general. "What have you _done_ to him?"

"I do believe he yelled 'get out of my head'," the general mused thoughtfully, ignoring Steve. "How ignorant of the both of you to think that you could escape HYDRA so easily."

"Not ignorant," Captain America spat. "Smart."

"If you were smart," the general replied icily, "you would've stayed put. Now I'll have to kill you and hope your dead body yields the same results we would have gotten from you when you were alive. And, on top of that, we'll have to wipe Bucky's memory again. How sad."

He didn't sound very sad about it. The HYDRA general sounded more annoyed, as if erasing everything that made Bucky _Bucky_ was a trivial chore.

"How dare you," Captain America seethed. "You have no right to play with people like this!"

"I have every right. Now be quiet and surrender!"

All of a sudden, the door leading to the escape route that Bucky had been heading towards burst open, colliding with the opposite wall and letting in a cloud of smoke. Two figures burst into the hallway, one holding a high-tech bow and the other brandishing her twin pistols.

"I could say the same to you," Black Widow announced coldly, her pistols aimed directly at the HYDRA general's heart.


	13. Chapter 13

"Perfect timing, Natasha," Captain America commented wryly, kneeling next to his unconscious friend. "I would almost think that you had planned that."

"I wish," Hawkeye replied before Black Widow could say anything. "She's got this kind of thing down to a science at this point and I- Ow!"

Black Widow pulled her elbow out of Hawkeye's side and tilted her head in the direction of the HYDRA general. Hawkeye's eyes widened slightly.

"Right," he coughed awkwardly, "mission. Got it."

"My reinforcements will be here soon, Avengers," the general said confidently. "You will be overrun!" He started laughing, despite his situation.

"Just shut up," Black Widow groaned, rolling her eyes. "I am so tired of you, and I've only been here for a few seconds."

"You should've heard him before," Captain America muttered, but neither Black Widow nor Hawkeye responded.

 _I have to help Bucky_ , Steve thought desperately. _I need to get him out of here, out of this place._

"Uh, Cap," Hawkeye said, watching Captain America out of the corner of his eye, "isn't that the enemy?"

"Not anymore," Captain America grunted, slinging his shield over his shoulder and picking up Bucky. "We need to get him out of here."

Black Widow and Hawkeye exchanged a glance, and then both of them shrugged.

"I guess that's doable," Hawkeye said, abruptly switching arrows. "I think we'll want this general guy as well. He might come in handy."

Just as Hawkeye released his knockout arrow, gunfire flooded the hallway, making the heroes drop to the ground quickly to avoid being shot.

"I guess the guy's reinforcements have arrived!" Black Widow shouted over the noise, returning fire with her pistols.

"You don't say!" Hawkeye retorted, somehow managing to fire his bow even from an awkward position. His explosive arrows took out multiple HYDRA soldiers at once, but more continued to come.

 _This must be every soldier in the entire base_ , Captain America realized. _There's no way we can take them all out._

"Chill, Cap," Hawkeye managed, "we didn't come here alone."

On cue, a rumbling shook the whole structure, and cracks appeared in the ceiling above the HYDRA soldiers. They paused in their shooting, staring up at the crumbling ceiling in confusion instead of running. As soon as one of them realized that running was the best plan, the ceiling collapsed, burying the men in tons of dirt and broken metal. Through the new hole, the heroes could see blue sky, and, above that, a hovering SHIELD fighter jet.

_So they had a plan after all. Can't say I'm surprised. Natasha would never go into a hostile situation without thinking it through first._

"Let's go, people!" Hawkeye ordered, grabbing one of the cables that had suddenly been dropped from the SHIELD jet. Everyone complied except Captain America, who took a few precious seconds to attach Bucky to one of the ropes before grabbing his own. Just as more HYDRA soldiers arrived from another direction, the heroes were lifted off the ground and pulled into the belly of the fighter jet, and then safely flown out.

As they left, SHIELD personnel poured into the HYDRA facility, securing as many prisoners as possible, including the general that Hawkeye had knocked out. There was no chance for the HYDRA soldiers to escape or even plead for mercy as SHIELD swept through them. Even with all that SHIELD had suffered through as a result of the previous HYDRA plot, what was left of the organization was still plenty strong enough to take out one HYDRA stronghold that had already been breached.

Nick fury was waiting for the group as they stumbled into their seats, taking a moment to find their balance in the fast-moving vehicle. Nick Fury, being Nick Fury, simply stood in the middle of the area and held onto a handle hanging from the ceiling. He surveyed each member of the group until his eyes landed on the Winter Soldier. Immediately, seeing that the man was unconscious, Fury turned to Captain America.

"Care to explain this, Captain?" He asked, neither his voice nor his expression giving away his thoughts. Steve Rogers, looking tired, pulled his shield off of his back and set it in front of him, letting it rest against his shins. After that action was complete, he sighed deeply and made an inarticulate hand signal.

"His memory . . ." Steve began, trying to explain it in a way that would stop Fury from locking the Winter Soldier away for the rest of his life, "it's . . . come back."

Everyone except Nick Fury reacted to that news, with Natasha and Clint exchanging another one of their silent conversations.

"Explain." Fury's voice left no room for argument and his intense expression never wavered. Not that anyone in the fighter jet had expected it to.

"Well," Steve said, "he doesn't remember all of it, from what I got. He . . . switched sides, helped me not get my can get cracked open."

Hawkeye winced, but seemed to calm down when Black Widow placed her hand on his thigh. He offered her a small smile. Steve and Fury watched the exchange, both of them knowing what had caused Clint's reaction. He still wasn't entirely over what Loki had done to him, even though it was all that time ago.

"Anyway," Steve continued, trying to be a bit more sensitive about how he talked, "he gave me my shield and assisted me in getting out. He acted . . . almost like he had when I was younger."

 _Seventy_ years _younger_ , Steve thought somewhat bitterly, though at this point he was accustomed to the idea that he was ninety years old.

"However, once he saw the general, he froze."

"A conflict of loyalties," Natasha said quietly, her expression neutral despite the pain hidden in her eyes. Steve nodded.

"Exactly. He resisted the general's commands and ended up blacking out right before you two showed up."

Fury said nothing, though anyone could see the gears turning in his suspicious and somewhat paranoid mind.

"If he's an actor," he mused, "he'd be a pretty good one to fool you, Steve."

"Judging from how he acted during the HYDRA incident," Steve replied, thinking of the silent and intimidating figure he remembered, "he's gained a whole new personality."

"That may be so," Fury grunted, "but I am not trusting this man until he goes through a thorough examination."

"You aren't going to punish him, are you?" Steve asked anxiously.

"Son," Nick Fury said, "if I punished people for committing acts that they had no control over committing, Hawkeye wouldn't be here."

"Point taken," Steve responded, leaning back in his seat, somewhat satisfied with Fury's answer. Clint offered Rogers a small smile.

"Trust me," he said, "he'll be fine."

Steve nodded, his eyes going to the man unconscious on the floor. Only then did he notice that his metal arm had a few bullets lodged in it, and that it was pretty badly damaged. Black Widow, following his line of sight, smirked.

"You need medical attention too, Rogers," she said softly. Steve looked down at himself and, for the first time, realized that he was bleeding a fair amount.

"We're heading towards a field hospital," Fury interrupted before Steve could say anything. "You'll get patched up, Rogers, your friend too."

"What about his arm?" Steve questioned. He sincerely doubted that a field hospital could fix that mass of metal, no matter how advanced the twenty-first century was. Fury frowned for a brief moment.

"I suppose I could call in Stark," he growled, "but, before you get too grateful, Rogers, remember that I'm not the one dealing with his ego."

Steve smiled ruefully and scratched the back of his neck.

"Understood, Fury," he replied.

_You're going to get better, Bucky. You're coming home._


	14. Chapter 14

Bucky's head hurt, but not in a normal kind of way. He felt as if someone had drilled through his skull, dug around in his brain, and removed a few chunks of it, leaving empty gaps in his head. Instinctively, he groaned, shifting slightly. As soon as he did so, he sensed a fury of movement around him.

Bucky slowly opened his eyes, wincing slightly at the bright light. Around him in a white room were a bunch of doctors, each examining machines and tablets. A few cast him worried glances, seeing that he was awake.

_What's going on? Where am I? The last thing I remember . . ._

_"Soldier, subdue the captain."_

Bucky hissed through his teeth and shut his eyes, but when he opened them he realized something. The compulsion to follow those orders, the compulsion that had driven Bucky to listen to everything his superiors in HYDRA said, was gone.

_Is it possible?_

He looked around, seeing that he was strapped into a hospital bed. His metal arm looked different now; more polished, and when he flexed the fingers they felt much more natural and less . . . _cold_ than they had. The whole limb felt cleaner.

Blinking, Bucky really looked at the doctors around him. Their facial expressions . . . there was concern there, concern he had not seen before in the people that attended to him when he was injured. Instead of disdain, there was kindness.

_Am I . . . free?_

Bucky half expected to get beaten just for thinking that word, but nothing came and he slowly relaxed, testing the bands on the bed.

"Please don't do that," one of the nearby doctors requested. Bucky eyed him.

_That wasn't an order . . . but I should follow it anyway. It's what I would do before . . . before HYDRA._

With that in mind, Bucky complied and stopped pulling on the restraints.

"We don't want to have to sedate you again," another doctor explained, tapping away on a tablet.

"Again?" Bucky repeated, his throat scratchy.

"Yes. You were screaming and thrashing. That's why you are restrained." The doctor didn't make eye contact, but he wasn't being unkind. The other people in the room seemed kind of surprised that I had spoken, but none of them looked afraid.

_Do they know about what I've done?_

Even as he thought it, Bucky was pulled into a brief flashback of his first few missions for HYDRA. Just before he lost himself completely, he yanked himself back to the present with a massive force of will.

"Vitals spiking!" One doctor reported, his eyes fixed on a flashing screen.

Bucky felt like he was burning up inside; his head hurt even more and his thoughts were racing.

"Someone get me a sedative!" A different doctor ordered. A moment later, Bucky felt a needle slide into his shoulder. Soon, his eyes began to feel heavy and the burning sensation cooled down, until Bucky slid off into unconsciousness.

* * *

Steve Rogers watched his old friend anxiously as Bucky collapsed, limp, onto his bed, the tension in his muscles fading as the sedative took hold.

"Is he . . . going to be alright?" He asked hesitantly, turning to a nearby doctor who had been watching the entire ordeal with Steve from behind a two-way mirror. The woman consulted her tablet, tapped a few times, and then sighed.

"Most likely, it will take him weeks to fully recover from the surgery he underwent while unconscious. Removing all of the blocks and . . . nastiness HYDRA had put in his head put a massive amount of stress on his mind."

"But he remembers who he is?" Steve pressed.

"Most likely, the memories will return with time," the doctor replied. A small smile graced her lips. "All things heal with time, Captain Rogers. Give him a while."

She walked out of the small observation room, her tablet under her arm, only to be replaced by Natasha and Clint.

"How's he holding up?" Clint asked, moving to stand next to Steve. Natasha followed suit, all of their eyes fixed on the unconscious figure on the bed.

"The doctors said he would recover," Steve responded quietly.

"Is that what you believe, Rogers?" Natasha inquired, her expression genuinely concerned. The two had grown much closer since the HYDRA incident.

"It's what I have to believe, Natasha."

Clint stared at the two of them, his expression calculating, though it cleared quickly. Natasha leaned back, made eye contact with Hawkeye, and gave him a knowing smirk. The archer immediately went red and hastened to cover his face and stop Steve from seeing.

He blinked and Natasha moved to stand beside him, one arm around his waist.

 _How can she play me like this?_ Clint wondered, but not particularly caring.

"Relax, Clint," Natasha whispered, knowing full well that Steve could hear every word they were saying. "I'm not going to go out with Steve."

The man in question had a _very_ spontaneous coughing fit and quickly excused himself from the room, claiming that he needed a drink of water.

"That guy never gets sick," Clint muttered suspiciously.

"But he does get uncomfortable," Natasha reminded Clint. Immediately, understanding dawned on the archer's face.

"Oh," he said.

"Come on, Clint," Natasha scoffed, pulling back, "I know you're smarter than you're letting on."

Clint frowned. Suddenly, he remembered something that Natasha had said a while ago and bent forward, looking deeply into Natasha's eyes. She frowned, slightly disconcerted by Clint's sudden change in behavior.

"What are you-?" She started, but Clint held up a hand to silence her.

"There's something different about you," he muttered thoughtfully, his blue eyes narrowing. "I can't quite place it . . ."

"There's nothing different," Natasha retorted, not sure where the man was going with his statement. She tensed, expecting an attack; it wouldn't be the first time that Clint attempted to surprise her.

"Is that . . . mascara?"

Natasha glared at Clint while a grin formed on his face that was so bright it might as well have been blinding. For a moment, she was confused as to why he was grinning, until she remembered what she had said to the Winter Soldier when she had seen him at the cabin.

Natasha's reaction was instant. Clint reeled back, clutching his rapidly reddening face.

"Did you really have to punch me?" He complained. "That was pure _gold_!"

"No, it wasn't," Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms.

_I guess when I said it to the Winter – um, Bucky – it was a bit rude, but come on. What kind of guy wears stuff like that around his eyes? Who has the time?_

Natasha hurriedly broke off that chain of thought. She didn't need to bother herself with things like that.

"C'mon Natasha," Clint laughed, "you know I'm awesome."

"That's not where my mind was going, Clint," Natasha sighed, but she couldn't help the small smile that broke out on her face.

_For some reason, Clint just makes me smile. I don't get it, but I like it._

Before she was fully aware of her actions, Natasha stepped towards Clint, put her finger below his chin, tilted up his head, and kissed him passionately on the lips. He went stiff, his eyes widening with shock and then slowly closing. Both of them stood and embraced each other, enjoying the moment of peace and quiet. For the time being, neither Clint nor Natasha had responsibilities. This was their time to do what they wanted. Sure, they needed to check up on Steve, but that task was nearly finished, and then they could get some real alone time.

The sound of the door sliding open caused the pair to abruptly split apart and hurriedly take a few steps away from each other, trying to act as if nothing intimate had just happened.

Natasha hid her feelings easily, but Clint's face was redder than it had been before.

Steve stood in the doorway, glancing between the man and woman before him. He awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Are you two . . . done here?" He asked eventually, obviously feeling uncomfortable.

"Of course," Natasha replied sweetly, grabbing Clint's arm. "We were just taking our leave. I hope . . . Bucky recovers soon."

With one last dazzling smile, Natasha pulled Clint out of the room. Steve watched them go, a puzzled expression on his face. With a shrug, he decided that it was none of his business what was going on between the two of them.

Steve turned back to the unconscious Bucky and set his hands on the small ledge by the mirror. He wasn't moving until Bucky woke up, and the second he did, Steve would be at his side.


	15. Chapter 15

Bucky was standing in a dark room, unable to see the walls and barely able to detect the shape of his hands. Around him, darker shapes danced in the darkness, pulling at his nerves and making Bucky's hair stand on end, though the man himself gave no reaction to the movement around him. His eyes looked around the room, but there was nothing to see. Only shapes and darkness.

And voices.

_What are they saying?_

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he listened, and he struggled to hear the words. They floated in and out of hearing, until Bucky managed to piece together the phrase. It repeated over and over, slowly building in volume.

_Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get-_

Bucky tuned out the noise, slowly turning in a circle, trying to see if there was anything at all in the room besides himself and the shadows. His search turned up nothing, and in the background the noise was growing to a shout, becoming even faster and more difficult to ignore

_GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT OF MY HEAD GETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!_

Bucky clamped his hands over his ears to block out the noise but that did nothing as the volume continued to increase, making Bucky's head ache and his pulse increase and he thought he felt blood on his fingers as his eardrums popped and then-

Silence.

Absolute, complete silence, so quiet Bucky could hear his heart beating in his chest like a base drum. His breathing was irregular, and he took a moment to calm down.

_What's going on?_

Footsteps echoed throughout the dark space, startling Bucky. He looked up, trying to pierce the shadows. A thought crossed his mind and he checked his fingers to see if there actually had been blood. Sure enough, a small amount of crimson coated his fingers, and he could still feel warm drops of blood dripping down from his ears.

_It's messing with my hearing._

Then Bucky frowned.

_How am I hearing things if my eardrums are popped?_

Those thoughts quickly fled as a figure became visible through the darkness, slowly walking towards where Bucky was kneeling on the ground. Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet, preparing himself for a fight. The figure continued walking towards Bucky, his steps slow and measured. Bucky's eyes widened when the man's left arm suddenly flashed, revealing the metal.

_Is that . . .?_

The person stopped moving about two meters away from Bucky and simply stood there, arms crossed and unmoving. Bucky couldn't even tell if he was breathing, but there was no doubt in Bucky's mind that he was looking at himself. There was some feeling in the back of his mind that told him that, and he knew it was right.

"Why are you here?" Bucky asked, keeping his guard up. If he was seeing himself, it probably wasn't a good thing. Other other Bucky simply stared, at Bucky felt a shiver go down his spine when he saw how cold and hard his own eyes were.

_I never noticed . . . When did that happen?_

"Why are you just staring at me?" Bucky demanded. "Say something!"

The other Bucky still said nothing, simply regarding his double with something near contempt, but it was somehow emptier than that. Not even personal. It was just there. Suddenly, the other Bucky shifted, dropping his hands to his sides.

"You should know what's going on by now," he said flatly. There was no emotion to his tone, no inflection to his words.

_What?_

"I don't," I replied in the same tone, seeing if I could get a reaction. There was none.

"You abandoned your mission," the other Bucky continued, his eyes somehow becoming colder. "You never abandon a mission."

"I had to abandon that mission," Bucky growled. "Some orders aren't worth following."

"That's not what you've been taught."

"I don't care. I don't work for HYDRA anymore."

The other Bucky's eyes narrowed.

"Then we are enemies," he stated.

"Well then," Bucky replied, dropping into a defensive crouch, "let's fight."

The other Bucky copied the original Bucky's position and they began circling each other, the darkness swirling around them. Bucky could still see shadows darting in and out of his view, but he forced himself to focus solely on his clone.

Suddenly, the other Bucky went for a straight jab with his left hand, the metal gleaming dully. Bucky quickly dodged, countering with a right hook that would go under the other Bucky's extended arm, but the other Bucky turned and kicked Bucky's legs out from under him.

_This is . . . I remember. The Winter Soldier. That must be who I am . . . was?_

The Winter Soldier tried to follow up on his advantage but Bucky rolled out of the way and punched him while standing up, using the extra power from the extension to send the Winter Soldier flying into the dark. For a moment, Bucky thought about following, but the darkness seemed to thicken, blocking off where the Winter Soldier had landed.

_What? What's-_

Bucky suddenly ducked as a fist passed over his head, missing him by centimeters. Before Bucky could put more distance between him and his attacker, a foot connected with his back and sent Bucky sprawling, but he was quickly back on his feet. The Winter Soldier was staring at Bucky, somehow having managed to sneak up behind him. However, he wasn't in an attack position anymore.

_I'm fighting myself._

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Bucky asked, straightening as well.

_Where am I, anyway? I don't recognize this place._

"You need to follow orders," the Winter Soldier repeated. Bucky realized that the darkness that had pervaded the space previously was beginning to lift, albeit slowly.

"I don't," Bucky replied stubbornly. That idea was solidly planted in his mind now; the way Steve acted, the way he was independent and still commanded respect; it all led to the belief that orders that were not appropriate should not be followed.

"You do." The Winter Soldier made a slight gesture and the darkness lifted completely, revealing three massive gates wrought of a thick, heavy-looking metal that stretched up to infinity. Bucky, originally having dropped into a crouch at the darkness lifting, stood back up. His eyes immediately went to one of the gates, which had a massive hole in the metal bars, the bars shredded and ugly where they were broken.

"What . . . are _those_ _?"_ Bucky breathed, taking a split second to examine each gate, while keeping an eye on his clone in case he tried to attack while Bucky was distracted.

"What do you think?" The Winter Soldier responded, showing more personality than he had the entire time. Bucky mentally filed through his memories, trying to figure out what the gates were.

"It would really help if I knew where I was," he muttered under his breath. The Winter Soldier heard him, however.

"You are unconscious," he stated. "Currently, your mental activity is being directed to this . . . dream."

The way he said "dream" made Bucky think that whatever he was experiencing was slightly more than just a dream.

"If I'm unconscious," he mused, "and I'm in my own head . . . knowing what happened to me . . ." he involuntarily winced at one of the memories, and he could've sworn that the broken gate shuddered when he did. " . . . these are the blocks that HDYRA put up in my head," Bucky finished, his eyes narrowing. He was filled with the urge to rip the gates to pieces.

"Yes." The Winter Soldier didn't sound too excited about that. "They are what keeps you from remembering and experiencing everything."

"What do you mean?"

"You still aren't feeling emotion as you were before. The gates block it."

Bucky looked at the gates with new feelings of hatred. The structures looked less appealing now, more menacing. Bucky could see now where the "floor" was cracked around the gates, as if the structures had been forced into position. Even now, he was getting a headache.

_I'm getting a headache . . . while in my own head. Wonderful. I bet Steve never had to deal with this._

"I want to get rid of them," Bucky declared, his hands tightening into fists.

"I can't let you do that," the Winter Soldier immediately replied. Both men tensed, knowing that another fight was inevitable.

They launched themselves at each other simultaneously, raining down a fury of blows that didn't seem to affect either fighter. Both were evenly matched, matching the other blow for blow. Both took damage, being more offensive based than defensive. Each time Bucky was hit, the largest, golden gate would shake violently. On the other hand, every time Bucky managed to land a punch or kick on the Winter Soldier, the other two gates cracked and groaned.

The Winter Soldier managed to get in a hard punch to Bucky's stomach, forcing Bucky to bend over automatically, putting his head in the perfect position for the Winter Soldier to knee him in the face and send him skidding over to one of the gates.

_He's . . . as strong as I am. Maybe even stronger, if that's possible._

Bucky staggered to his feet, feeling a chill coming from the gate. There was something about the structure that put Bucky on edge, something that made him angry just by standing near it.

When the Winter Soldier got close enough, Bucky went back to fighting, managing to push the Winter Soldier back with a flurry of attacks before the Winter Soldier could recover his defenses. Even then, Bucky pushed harder, forcing himself to fight harder than he had before. If he was going to bring the gates down, he would need to take down the man in front of him, no matter how skilled he was.

"I told . . . that general . . . to get out . . . of my head," Bucky gasped, dodging a punch and responding with a few of his own, only to have to take a step back in order to avoid a kick. "You . . . should follow . . . that advice!"

The Winter Soldier didn't reply, and Bucky planned out his next sequence of motion in his head. He took a few punches for diverting his thoughts, and just as the Winter Soldier tried a right hook, Bucky grabbed his arm and pulled, sending the Winter Soldier crashing into the gate behind Bucky. The metal buckled, making an ominous creaking noise.

The gate's shuddering slowly increased, and the Winter Soldier dove out of the way as it collapsed, the metal screeching as it broke. For a moment, Bucky couldn't see, as he was shielding his eyes from falling debris. Before he could react to the rapidly approaching shadow, the Winter Soldier had tackled him, but Bucky managed to throw him off and regain his feet. Behind him, the gate was nothing more than a shattered wreck of metal. The Winter Soldier stared at the broken gate, something unidentifiable flickering behind his eyes. Bucky felt it too; a faint pulsing in his brain, like something had just been removed.

Bucky wasn't sure what he was doing as he staggered over to the Winter Soldier, his body becoming less and less coordinated. The Winter Soldier seemed to be having the same problem, but he wasn't moving at all.

With a gasp, Bucky tackled the Winter Soldier and both men fell to the ground, but Bucky had one advantage: a knife in one hand. It had been jammed in his belt the entire time, but he had never even noticed or thought to use the weapon.

Bucky took a deep, shuddering breath, preparing for what he was about to do. Suddenly, the Winter Soldier groaned.

"Do it," he gasped, a small amount of blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. The gate's collapse had evidently affected him far more than Bucky had realized. "Just . . . do it."

The Winter Soldier grabbed Bucky's wrist and directed the knife over his heart. The tip rested against his chest, moving slightly up and down with each heart beat.

"Do it," the Winter Soldier repeated, a pain behind his eyes so intense it made Bucky want to end his life.

"I can't," Bucky growled, moving the knife away. He stood up shakily. "I can't end your life."

"Why . . . not?"

"Because you don't deserve to die," Bucky said with a certainty he didn't feel.

_Steve wouldn't kill him. I know that._

Bucky turned away from the Winter Soldier and heaved a sigh, sliding the knife back into his belt and staring at the wreckage of the gate. Even now, it was beginning to disappear, fading into the background as Bucky watched.

Just before Bucky could actually react, he heard a sickening sound from behind him. He whirled around to see the Winter Soldier's hand fall back to his side, limp and lifeless. The knife was buried deep in his chest, up to the hilt if not farther. There was no point in saying anything; Bucky could clearly see that the Winter Soldier's death had been instant.

 _Why?_ He thought, crouching next to himself. _Why do this?_

Suddenly, the ground began to quake. Bucky's head shot up and he watched as the remaining two gates - even the one that was already torn - began to crumble, falling apart like a puzzle in reverse. The shattered pieces crashed to the ground, and Bucky could _feel_ each large piece in his mind. They were pulses of pain echoing in his head.

Bucky slowly collapsed, his body no longer responding at all. His eyes closed, and he felt himself drifting away.

* * *

All was quiet, except for the soft beeping of machines. Bucky groaned, shifting slightly, but stopping when he felt the straps on his wrists. With painful slowness, Bucky opened his eyes, squinting slightly from the light.

"Welcome back, Bucky," a quiet voice said.

Sitting next to the bed was none other than Steve Rogers.


	16. Chapter 16

"Steve?" Bucky coughed, confused. "How . . . what's going on? Why am I-" Bucky tested the bands holding him in place- "strapped down?"

Steve sighed, leaning back. He simply looked relieved.

"It's a pretty long story, Bucky," Steve replied. "And most of the guys here did it for their own safety. Well, they think they did."

"What?"

"Just relax, Bucky," Steve said softly, trying to calm down his friend. "You blacked out at the HYDRA base and have been unconscious ever since. Some people thought that you wouldn't wake up."

 _But you didn't_ , Bucky thought, staring at the man above him. _I can see that._

"I . . . how long was I out?" Bucky asked.

"Three and a half days," Steve replied, a wry smile on his face. "It's probably more than you've slept in weeks."

A small smile formed on Bucky's face in response, but it was instantly wiped away as the door leading into the medical bay burst open and SHIELD agents swarmed in. Steve jumped to his feet and stepped in front of Bucky, shielding him.

_What are you doing, Steve?_

"Fury!" Steve called. "This really isn't necessary!"

Bucky could only stare at all of the weapons pointed at him. Images flashed through his mind of other men pointing weapons, being strapped to a table, and bright lights-

"Bucky, calm down!"

Steve was now crouched next to his friend, who was sweating and pale. His face was concerned, and Bucky slowly calmed himself, remembering that he wasn't there anymore. He was with Steve, not HYDRA.

"I think it is necessary, Rogers," a new voice said. The SHIELD agents parted as Nick Fury strode into the room, immediately diverting all attention to himself.

"How so?" Steve argued, his hands clenched into fists. "Bucky's not going to do anything!"

_Are they . . . afraid? Is that why they're aiming weapons at me?_

"We don't know that, Captain," Fury replied coldly. "I'd rather not risk my men. We're moving him to the prison block now that he's regained consciousness."

"You can't do that!" Steve protested. "I vouch for him. You trust me, at least!"

"Sorry, Cap, but I'm not risking the security of this installation." Fury nodded to the men next to him. "Take him."

The SHIELD agents pushed past a very distraught-looking Steve Rogers and quickly undid the restraints on Bucky, only to immediately replace them with handcuffs. Bucky was pulled to his feet and shoved forward, causing him to stumble slightly.

_They don't trust me. But . . . I haven't done anything. I rescued Steve! Doesn't that count for anything? Or am I always going to be bad?_

"Fury," Steve seethed, putting on hand on Bucky's shoulder and stopping the SHIELD agents from taking him away, "you're making a mistake. You're also forgetting that Bucky _rescued me_ from HYDRA. If he hadn't, I wouldn't be standing here right now!"

"I don't care, Rogers!" Fury snapped. "The only reason I have survived this long is that I am a very paranoid man, and I will not let a convicted assassin wander freely on your say-so!"

"Then do it on mine."

_What-?_

Natasha Romanova stepped into the room, one hand on her hip and a determined expression on her face. Hawkeye stepped in behind her, the same look in his eyes.

"Same goes for me," he added. "Natasha and I got there after the Wi- Bucky collapsed, but it was obvious that he was resisting HYDRA. You can't imprison a man who didn't know what he was doing!"

Clint was visibly trembling, and Steve's eyes widened in realization.

 _That's right. When Loki - Clint must be taking this personally,_ Steve thought.

Fury was taken aback, staring at the two people who had suddenly interrupted.

"Clint," he eventually said, "this is different than your situation."

"How is it?" Clint shot back. "As far as I can see, this guy-" he gestured to Bucky, who was staring at him with wide eyes - "used to be fighting on our side, but was being controlled _against his will_ by a force _outside of his control_ , but Steve _snapped him out of it_. Does any of this sound familiar to you, Fury? Because it's definitely ringing a few bells in my head!"

Clint's face was red by the end of his delivery, and he was breathing heavily. Natasha put a hand on his arm to calm him down, and then turned to Fury.

"You can't just dismiss the circumstances because you caught Bucky," she said seriously. "Yes, he's done bad things, but I did the same and you trust me. Why can't you extend the same courtesy to the man right in front of you?" Her voice never approached a yell, but it cracked like a whip. Some of the SHIELD agents exchanged looks, uncertain of how to proceed. Nick Fury's one good eye narrowed, but his expression lost some of its intensity.

"I have to agree with Apollo over here," another voice drawled. Tony Stark strode into the room, taking most of the spotlight off of Nick Fury. His smirk when he entered the room was nothing short of cocky, but his body language didn't lend to the idea that he was intentionally doing it.

 _Of course it's Stark_ , Steve thought somewhat ruefully. _Knowing him, he'll get Fury to simply kick Bucky onto the streets._

"The name's Clint, Tony," Clint muttered, rolling his eyes. Tony just turned his smirk to Clint and then continued, holding out his hand for Natasha to fist bump.

"Been a while, Natasha," he said brightly. Natasha leveled Tony with a glare and pushed down his fist.

"Wait, _she's_ Natasha while _I'm_ Apollo? Why do you even use nicknames?" Clint looked lost.

"To keep things interesting," Tony replied easily. Then he abruptly got serious and turned back to Fury. "Fury, I have to agree with the Dangerous Duo over here as well as Cap."

"Seriously?" Clint groaned under his breath, earning an elbow from the woman next to him. Tony ignored Clint's interruption.

"I didn't come here just because Steve asked me to fix Bionic Boy's arm," Tony continued. "I came here just so you wouldn't throw him in prison. I know you, Nick, and I know that you are perfectly willing to do just that, but you can't."

"And why can't I?" Fury questioned dangerously. Tony returned his look with a cool, self-assured confidence that anyone else would be hard-pressed to pull off.

"Because then you'd have to arrest Clint. And Natasha. Hell, I've probably done something to get thrown in jail."

"I can agree with that," Clint muttered, earning himself another elbow from Natasha. He sulked quietly, rubbing his side.

"I swear, Stark," Fury sighed, rubbing his good eye. "You're going to be the death of me."

"Probably," Tony replied, grinning, "but right now I'm just saving you from pissing off the Avengers. You know how Bruce can get; if everyone else is upset . . ."

"You don't need to remind me," Fury spoke, cutting off what Tony was going to say. The director of (what was left of) SHIELD groaned, looking more tired than Steve was expecting. "You're making this difficult, Stark."

"It's what I'm best at. Anyway, you've got nothing to gain from locking this guy up. If you want to interrogate him-" Bucky looked freaked at the concept, which concerned Steve- "you're not going to get much. From what I read of the HYDRA files, this guy had his memory erased more times than I could count. I doubt he could tell you anything, much less anything more than all of the HYDRA personnel you took prisoner during that raid while you were trying to rescue Cap."

"How do you know all of that?" Fury asked somewhat coldly, his eyebrow going up. Tony smiled mischievously.

"I may have hacked your files. It was a bit too easy."

"Stark!" Fury spluttered, his hand halfway to his gun.

"Take it easy, Nick," Tony smirked. "If I wasn't too valuable to you, you would've kicked me off the Avengers Initiative ages ago."

"Then where were you during the Insight incident?" Natasha inquired. Tony visibly reddened.

"There was a . . . ah . . . _complication_ with some new armor that I was building. It may have exploded."

"May have," Clint snorted.

"Are you just here to provide commentary?" Natasha snapped.

"Yes," Clint replied. "Deal with it."

He paid for that remark by getting punched in the stomach. Clint immediately collapsed, groaning. Natasha grinned for the first time, crossing her arms and daring anyone to comment. For their safety, no one in the room did, not even Nick Fury.

"Tony," Steve put in, trying to draw the conversation back to its point, "what exactly are you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is . . ."

"Get on with it," Clint gasped from the floor. Natasha's high-heeled yet somehow extremely functional shoe crashed down on Clint's neck, cutting off his words.

" _What I'm trying to say is_ ," Tony repeated, stressing each word and shooting Clint daggers with his eyes, "the Avengers can take care of Bucky. SHIELD doesn't need to get its hands dirtier than they already are."


	17. Chapter 17

The room was dead quiet. The SHIELD agents were standing around the room looking completely confused, while the ones holding Bucky seemed to be unsure if they really needed to be holding him anymore. Even Clint had stopped groaning and was staring at Tony, who had his arms crossed and a determined expression on his face. Fury stared right back, making the tension in the room skyrocket.

It was Steve who broke the silence.

"Tony, are you serious?"

"Of course, Cap," Tony replied seriously. "I get why Nick over here wants to lock up Adamantium-Arm over here, but it's not for any good reasons."

"It's Bucky," Bucky muttered, but no one heard him.

"Stark, what makes you think you have the authority to just waltz in here and mess with my prisoners?" Fury demanded.

"He's not your prisoner," Tony pointed out, "and he isn't _yours_ either. He's Cap's friend, and it would just be stupid to lock Bucky up because I have a feeling Spangles would leave the Avengers after that."

 _How did he know?_ Steve wondered. _Even I wasn't sure._

Fury turned to Steve, and Steve shrugged, not wanting to get involved in an argument between two of the most powerful people in the world.

"So you're saying," Fury began slowly, "that the Avengers will take full responsibility for the Winter Soldier's actions-"

"His name is Bucky," Steve interrupted coldly. Bucky looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye and, though no one saw it, smiled a tiny bit.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Tony responded, glaring at Nick. "Unless you want to drag Clint and Natasha down to the dungeons too."

 _How can Tony stand Nick's glare for so long_ and _keep his cool?_ Steve wondered.

Fury was visibly frustrated, and the SHIELD agents were getting restless. Anyone could tell that Fury had lost the upper hand, and that Stark had pretty much managed to usurp Fury's authority for the time being.

"Fine," Fury eventually conceded, though he was anything but happy about saying it. "You can take _Bucky_ back to Avenger's tower. But if I even hear a whisper of trouble concerning him, he will be gone from your team before you can even blink."

"Whatever you say, Fury," Tony replied casually. He then turned to Steve. "Well? He's your friend."

_Oh. Right._

Steve walked over to the agents that were holding Bucky and held out his hand. "Card, please?" He requested politely. One of the SHIELD agents shakily handed him a key card which Steve than swiped through a notch on the handcuffs. Immediately, the cuffs clicked and opened, falling to the floor. On cue, ever SHIELD agent in the room backed up while Bucky massaged his flesh-and-blood wrist, which was chaffed slightly from how tight the handcuffs had been. His metal arm, of course, was fine.

"You're going to love that arm, by the way," Tony said, looking proud of himself. "Not to brag, but for my first real dabbling in cybernetics I think it went pretty well. That thing won't break as easily as your old one, and I think it connects better with your central nervous system, since I used components like-"

"That's enough, Stark," Fury snapped. "If you want to show off your inventions, you can do it at Avenger's tower, not at SHIELD headquarters." Even though Fury was addressing Tony, his eye stayed on Bucky, who was being perfectly still.

 _I can tell that they don't trust me,_ Bucky thought. _If I do anything wrong, they're going to put me away. Lock me up. Just like-_

"Don't go there, Bucky," Steve said quietly, so quiet that no one else heard.

_How did he know what I was thinking?_

Steve gave his old friend a small smile. "It's pretty clear when you start thinking about the bad things," he whispered. "You get all white and shaky."

_I never noticed . . . I'll have to stop that._

"Steve," Bucky asked, "what are the Avengers?"

"You're going to love them," Tony interrupted. "Now c'mon. I don't think Nick wants us here anymore."

Natasha, Clint, Tony, Steve, and Bucky filed out of the SHIELD headquarters, only getting lost once because Tony tried looking for a vending machine. As soon as they stepped outside - they were in some remote location in the woods - Tony pressed a small button on his car key. Moments later, the sound of a very powerful engine roared through the trees, and a sleek new car pulled up, its silver paint job glistening in the waning afternoon sun. Clint whistled.

"Is that a-"

"Yes," Tony interrupted.

"But I thought-" Clint tried again, but failed.

"Yes," Tony repeated, clapping the archer on the back. "Now let's go. Avenger's tower is pretty far away from here, and last I checked Thor was trying to work the toaster. I'd rather not have to buy a new one for the fourth time this week."

"But it's only Tuesday," Steve said, confused. Tony turned a bleary look on his friend.

"I know."

 _I don't know what's going on_ , Bucky thought, _but I think I'm going to like being with the Avengers, whoever they are._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a thing for ellipses, it seems.


End file.
